The aftermath of the explosion was a profound, ringing silence. The flickering, unstable portal hung in the air at the center of the vast crater, a bleeding wound in the fabric of reality. It pulsed with a sickly red and black light, emitting a low, guttural hum that seemed to vibrate directly in one's bones.
It felt wrong, an affront to the natural order of the world. Grand Elder Theron hovered in the air, his calm facade finally broken, his face a mask of grim disbelief and deep worry. His ultimate attack had failed to close the portal .
On the high ledge, Li Yu and Cyra stared at the portal, a cold dread seeping into their hearts. This was it. This was the goal of all the death, all the disappearances. It was smaller, more unstable than Jian Xuan's theory had suggested, but it was open.
The sacrifice of a Soul Formation expert, combined with the blood of tens of thousands, had been just enough to tear a hole between worlds. The remaining disciples of the Radiant Dawn stared at the portal in terror, while the surviving Hegemony cultists looked upon it with expressions of rapturous, fanatical ecstasy, many falling to their knees in worship.
A voice, dripping with ancient malice and incandescent rage, suddenly boomed from within the portal. It was not a sound that traveled through the air, but one that erupted directly into the mind of every living being in the cavern, a psychic roar that carried with it the weight of eons of hatred. "HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT OUR PLANS YET AGAIN!"
The portal flared violently, and a figure began to emerge. It was not a clean or easy passage. The unstable vortex seemed to resist, and the being tore its way into their reality with a sickening, grinding sound. First, a massive, clawed hand, each talon the size of a short sword, gripped the edge of the portal.
Then another. Then a hulking, horned head emerged, its eyes burning with red and green. With a final, guttural roar, the figure ripped itself free, landing with a ground-shaking impact at the bottom of the crater.
He was a hulking figure, easily twelve feet tall, his body a terrifying fusion of muscle and demonic plating. Ancient, glowing red runes were carved directly into his dark, leathery skin, and two massive, curling horns swept back from his brow.
He was a creature of immense power and undeniable antiquity. As he stood to his full height, the surviving Radiant Dawn disciples felt a new, more profound wave of despair wash over them. Their Grand Elder was a 6th stage Soul Formation expert, a near-legendary figure. But the aura rolling off this new being felt even deeper, even more oppressive.
Grand Elder Theron stared at the hulking demon, and his grim expression was replaced by one of shocked, sorrowful recognition. A name left his lips, a mere whisper, but one filled with the pain of a long-dead memory. "Malek… is that you?"
The hulking demon, Malek, turned his burning eyes towards the old man. A slow, cruel grin spread across his monstrous face, revealing rows of sharpened teeth. "Theron, you old fossil. Still playing soldier for a dying Order, I see. It has been a long time." He then laughed loudly to himself, shaking the entire area.
"What have you done to yourself?" Theron asked, his voice shaking with a mixture of anger and regret. He looked at the monstrous form before him, but in his mind's eye, he saw a different man—a brilliant, ambitious young prodigy, his peer in the Order of the Radiant Dawn centuries ago.
"You were the brightest of our generation, Malek. A genius destined to lead. But your obsession with forbidden power, your refusal to accept limits… it led you down this dark path. I never thought… I never thought you would fall so far as to let them convert you."
Malek threw his head back and laughed, a sound like grinding stone that shook the cavern. "Fallen? Old man, I have ascended! While you stagnated, content with the scraps of power the world deigns to offer, I embraced a true patron! You speak of my conversion as if it were a violation. It was a gift! A glorious rebirth! To shed the weakness of a human shell for this… this is true power!"
He clenched his massive fists, the air around them crackling with demonic energy. "And now you have the gall to interfere yet again! Vorlag's sacrifice was meant to summon the Harbinger, to begin the true cleansing of this world! But your pathetic meddling weakened the ritual! Instead of summoning a true demon lord, all that blood, all that power, could only pull me from my meditation! You have delayed the inevitable and sealed your own doom!"
He glared at Theron, his rage palpable. "No matter. Once I have killed you all and harvested the rest of the cattle in this miserable land, I will finish the mission myself."
Theron's sad expression hardened into one of grim resolve. "I mourned the man you were, Malek. I will not hesitate to destroy the monster you have become." He raised his hand, and a magnificent halberd materialized in his grip. It was forged from Sun infused ore, an extremely ore that pulsed with a warm, golden light.
At the same time, from the crater below, a figure struggled to his feet. It was Lysander, his body a broken ruin, but his will was an unbending spear of iron. He held the shattered hilt of his sword in his one good hand, his other arm hanging limp and useless at his side. He, too, charged, a desperate, final act of defiance.
"For the Dawn!" he screamed, his voice raw with pain.
Malek looked at the two charging figures with utter contempt. He let them come. As Theron's halberd descended, the old man unleashed a powerful technique. "Radiant Sun Mirage Strike!"
The air shimmered, and suddenly there were not one, but dozens of illusory halberds, each glowing with the same intense power, raining down on Malek from every conceivable angle, making it impossible to know which was real.
Malek didn't bother to try and discern the real from the fake. As the storm of light descended, he met it not with a weapon, but with his open palm. A sickening crunch echoed through the cavern as his demonic hand caught the true Heliodor halberd. The illusory strikes vanished. Malek's hand was bleeding, a thin trickle of black ichor, but it had held. With his other hand, he unleashed a simple punch. It was impossibly fast. The punch slammed into Theron's chest.
The old man was blasted backwards as if hit by a mountain, his body a cannonball of green light that slammed into the far wall of the cavern. He slumped, sliding down the rock face to a seated position, a trickle of blood running down from his lips into his long white beard.
He was injured, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but his eyes, when he opened them, still burned with defiance. It was clear the power difference was immense, but he was not yet defeated.
At the same moment, Lysander's desperate, final attack arrived. Malek didn't even look at him. But as Lysander flew past, Malek's hand shot out and grabbed his left arm. There was a wet, tearing sound, and Lysander screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that cut through every heart in the valley. Malek had torn his arm from his body. He looked at the severed limb in his hand, then back at the screaming Lysander, and with a final act of cruel mockery, he backhanded Lysander with his own arm, sending his now-unconscious form tumbling to the ground.
The cavern fell into a stunned, horrified silence. The ultimate protectors of the Radiant Dawn had been utterly, effortlessly defeated.
Cyra was trembling, her hand gripping Li Yu's arm so tightly her knuckles were white. "Li Yu, we have to go," she whispered, her voice shaking with a primal fear. "We cannot fight that. No one can fight that. We have to escape and warn the others."
Li Yu didn't think she was wrong. Logic dictated that they flee. They had the information they came for but they have discovered terrifying. He looked down at the valley—at the broken forms of Theron and Lysander, at the terrified faces of the Radiant Dawn disciples who were now on the back foot, and at the thousands of innocent prisoners who were about to be consumed—he knew he couldn't leave.
So many would die, and the deaths would continue to pile on across the continent, eventually coming to his door. Even if he fled now, if that so-called Harbinger that Malek has spoken of as summoned, there wouldn't be enough time to get stronger. This was a plague, and if he didn't at least try to fight it here and now, it would spread.
He knew he didn't have the strength to fight it, at least not alone. He took a deep breath, his decision made. He turned his focus inward, to the quiet, boundless space of the Koi Sanctuary. 'Khaos,' he projected, his tone grim and formal. 'I need your help. Would you be willing to team up with me to fight this demon?'
A low, rumbling chuckle echoed in his mind, filled with an ancient, arrogant amusement. 'Team up? Little boy, you are as amusing as ever. Once again, you have found an enemy you are too weak to face alone, and so you come begging for my power. How many times has it been now? Do you think I am someone who you can command as you please? I have already helped you more than enough.'
Li Yu felt a flush of shame, but he did not deny the truth. 'Yes. I am too weak. I cannot deny that fact. But this creature cannot be allowed to continue. So I ask you again: will you fight alongside me? Please, this impacts more than just this area.'
There was a long pause. Then, Khaos's voice returned, no longer amused, but filled with the cold, absolute authority of a true monarch. 'I will not fight alongside you, little boy. Such an act is for weaklings who must huddle together for warmth and courage. A true king stands alone, and his victories are his own.'
Li Yu's heart sank. Had he been refused? At a time like this?
'However,' Khaos continued, a hint of something akin to excitement entering his tone, 'that creature… its power is… interesting. I will go and fight him alone. You are not to interfere with my battle, no matter the outcome. This is not a partnership. This is me, indulging in a hunt.'
'Thank you, Khaos, truely' Li Yu responded to the Khaos.
'Good,' Khaos's voice boomed in his mind. 'Now, stand aside and watch how a true king wages war.'