The night was quiet.
For once, no storms. No whispers of the Nameless God. No dungeons breathing at the edge of my mind. Just Lysera and me, the faint glow of violet sparks around my body reflecting in the candlelight.
We laughed. We teased. And for a few hours, the world outside didn't exist.
She rested her head against my chest, her fingers tracing the faint scars along my arms. "You really are impossible," she whispered.
I smirked, brushing my fingers through her hair. "I know. But admit it—you like it."
She laughed softly, eyes closing. "Maybe a little."
And for the first time in months, I allowed myself to just… exist. To be human.
Morning came like a blade.
I rose early, stretching as my storm flared faintly around me. Lysera stirred but didn't wake, and I let her sleep. Some things were worth protecting, even from the world itself.
I dressed quickly, sword strapped to my back, wraiths named and ready hovering silently in shadows around me. My storm hummed softly, not violent, but alive—ready.
I told Lysera softly, "I'll be back by sundown. Don't worry about me."
She smiled, sleepy but defiant. "Try not to destroy anything… too much."
I grinned. "No promises."
The city was sprawling. New markets, canals, and towers reaching for the sky. Merchants shouted. Children laughed. Life carried on oblivious to the coming storm.
And then… it began.
Portals tore open in the air, jagged and burning like wounds in the fabric of reality.
From one: a high orc, muscles like living steel, tusks dripping venom, eyes burning red.
From another: giant dire wolves, easily twice the size of a man, fur matted with shadow and fire, claws like sickles.
And from the last… the faintest shadow of wings in the clouds hinted at dragons, their scales glinting with elemental energy, eyes blazing as if the sun itself lived inside them.
They poured out of the portals, howling, roaring, bellowing—chaos incarnate.
The city froze. Merchants screamed. Guards raised their spears. Children cried.
And in the center of it all… me.
I planted my boots, storm thrumming through my veins, sword in hand. The wraiths formed around me like a protective halo, crackling with energy.
A violet storm surged over the city streets, tearing banners from balconies and splitting the air with electricity. Sparks danced along the edges of my blade, trailing like lightning snakes, ready to devour everything in my path that dared challenge me.
I smirked, arrogance flaring brighter than the sun. "Well… seems like someone wants to play."
The high orc bellowed, swinging a massive axe that could cleave through steel, and the dire wolves leaped, fangs glinting. Dragons circled above, wings stirring hurricanes of wind.
I didn't flinch.
Instead, I planted my sword, violet lightning dancing along its edge, and let the storm answer for me.
"Come. At. Me."
The wraiths answered, taking shape, fully evolved and named, moving to flank me. Shadows of purple lightning streaked across the battlefield.
The air trembled. The city trembled. And anyone foolish enough to challenge the Heir of the Nameless God would learn exactly why his name carried terror.
Chaos erupted, sparks and fury colliding with teeth and claws.
And above it all… I laughed.
Because this? This was fun.