The human continent of Aurelia lay broken.
Rivers boiled beneath Kaelthar's shadow. Mountains splintered with each pulse of his aura. Forests collapsed into ash under winds that howled like the screams of dying gods. Once-mighty cities — the heartbeats of empires — now stood hollow and silent, their walls cracked, their streets filled with dust and bone.
The few survivors whispered prayers that would never reach the heavens.
Their god, their emperor, their progenitor — had become something beyond comprehension.And he had not even begun to fight.
The Demigods Confronted
Three pillars of radiance tore through the blackened sky — the Demigods of Aurelios, Syltharion, and Thalorin. Their descent split the clouds apart, divine energy raining like molten gold.
They landed upon the shattered plains, forming a luminous triangle around Kaelthar.
The Dawnblade of Aurelios stepped forward, his wings blazing with celestial fire."Kaelthar Voidreign!" he declared, voice trembling with divine authority. "You will not rise beyond your station. The progenitor's heart is still mortal — and we will prove it!"
Beside him, the Verdant Seer of Syltharion and the Warden of Thalorin readied themselves, divine light and elemental might swirling like storms around their forms.
They were the pinnacle of humanity's divine defense — and Kaelthar felt nothing but amusement.
He raised the Spear of Blood, the weapon humming with a pulse that matched the beating of countless mortal hearts. The system's voice echoed within his mind, cold and absolute:
Threshold: Peak Demigod.Faith and worship: Active.Mortal continent: Fully subdued.Estimated power: Approaching true godhood.
Kaelthar's lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
"They come not to redeem," he murmured, "but to perish."
The Human Continent in His Grip
He lifted a single hand — and the continent responded.
A wave of power rippled outward. Cities flattened in an instant. Armies, tens of thousands strong, were lifted like grains of sand and scattered to the winds. The earth cracked open, swallowing kingdoms whole.
Mountains fractured. Rivers reversed their flow.
The sky itself seemed to recoil in terror.
Mortals collapsed to their knees. Even the strongest knights and magi could barely breathe under the pressure of his aura. It was no longer merely power — it was presence. It was ownership.
He felt their terror, their awe, their surrender. Every scream, every desperate prayer, every whispered plea for mercy flowed into him like a river of worship. Faith became energy. Devotion became strength.
"All who kneel," Kaelthar said, voice echoing like the word of creation, "all who fear, all who worship — you fuel me. You are mine."
From the ruins and shadows, his vampiric legions emerged. Thousands of them — his children, his loyal kin — knelt before their progenitor. Their reverence was not mere loyalty now; it was worship. They prayed to him, and he could feel it — their hearts pulsing like embers feeding an inferno.
Power surged through him, ascending in waves: Mythical, Demigod, then beyond.
And within that storm of ascension, a flicker of something else stirred —A memory.
A boy, once mortal, reaching toward the stars, dreaming of salvation.Now that boy was gone. Only Kaelthar remained.
He smiled — not in joy, but in mourning.And then, the Demigods attacked.
The Annihilation of Demigods
The Dawnblade lunged first, spear of sunlight aimed for Kaelthar's chest.
Kaelthar met him mid-strike, crimson and gold colliding in an explosion that shattered the horizon. The shockwave flattened entire mountain ranges; clouds vaporized in an instant.
Their weapons clashed again and again — light and blood, faith and defiance — until Kaelthar struck once, clean and merciless. The Dawnblade's golden wings shattered into ash, and his celestial armor cracked like fragile glass. He fell, burning, across the plains.
The Verdant Seer cried out his name and unleashed the fury of nature itself. Trees erupted from the ground, roots thicker than castles twisting to bind the progenitor. For a heartbeat, the continent seemed to rise against him.
But Kaelthar's aura flared — a hurricane of divine shadow. The roots disintegrated upon contact. The life magic she wielded was absorbed, converted, consumed.
"Beautiful," he whispered, almost gently, as he raised his hand and released a pulse of annihilation. The forest vanished. The Seer was thrown miles away, broken and unconscious among the ruins of her own creation.
The Warden of Thalorin moved last — a figure draped in spectral light, lantern blazing with imprisoned souls. He swung it forward, divine chains erupting outward, each link forged from faith and oath.
Kaelthar laughed — and the sound made the sky bleed.The chains shattered like smoke.
He extended his spear, and with one merciless strike, the lantern exploded. The trapped souls burst free, scattering like starlight across the heavens.
All three Demigods — the mightiest emissaries of the gods — lay defeated.
But Kaelthar felt no triumph.Only the echo of an ancient, hollow truth: Every victory left him more alone.
Peak Demigod Ascension
His heart — if such a thing still beat within him — thundered with power.
The limit of the Mythical had been torn apart. Faith, blood, and worship fused within him, forming something neither mortal nor divine. His aura spread across Aurelia, vast and suffocating. The air itself screamed.
Demigod threshold exceeded.Power: Approaching true godhood.Worship flow: Maximum.Caution: Dragon God Vyranth remains apex in physicality.
Kaelthar tilted his head toward the heavens, the faintest smile crossing his face. "Caution," he repeated softly. "How quaint."
The blood of his enemies, the devotion of mortals, the prayers of vampires — all flowed into one divine current. His spear glowed with the light of ascension.
"I am the progenitor. I am their god. The continent bends, and the faith of millions sustains me."
He thrust the spear into the ground.Mountains split apart. Rivers boiled away. Forests ignited. The world trembled as the sky itself bent in acknowledgment.
And through the roar of destruction, a thought whispered at the edge of his consciousness — quiet, almost sorrowful:At what point did salvation become conquest?He silenced it. Emotion was weakness, and weakness no longer had a place within him.
He was becoming divine.
The Divine Battlefield Established
Above the burning continent, the stars shuddered. Space itself seemed to ripple, and from that rift, something vast and ancient stirred.
Vyranth, the Dragon God — the first flame, the apex of creation — opened his eyes. His colossal body coiled through the heavens, scales glimmering like galaxies. His gaze fell upon the mortal plane.
"Interesting," the dragon god rumbled, his voice rolling like thunder through eternity. "The progenitor has risen. The continent is his… but he has not yet faced the full weight of the heavens."
Kaelthar turned his gaze upward, unflinching. He felt the dragon's regard, its immensity, its eternity — and yet he felt no fear.
Once, he might have knelt. Once, he might have prayed.Now, he only smiled.
"Let them come," he said, his voice vast enough to shake the stars. "I am no longer merely Mythical. I am the apex of Demigods. Soon… they will kneel to me."
The words reverberated through the firmament.
The ground quaked. The seas churned into storms of blood. The mountains wept molten stone.
Aurelia itself seemed alive — trembling between awe and annihilation.
From every ruin, the vampires rose and chanted his name.From every shadow, mortals whispered prayers — not to the old gods, but to him.
Kaelthar raised his spear toward the heavens, crimson light spiraling upward like a divine beacon.
The gods would see it. The heavens would feel it. The age of balance was over.
He raised his eyes once more.
"Peace will come," he said, though his tone was void of warmth. "Even if I must burn the heavens to make it so."
Lightning tore through the clouds as if the world itself responded.The sky darkened. The stars bent around his presence.
And in that moment, Kaelthar stood alone —between godhood and oblivion,between love and domination,between what he had been and what he was becoming.
The faithful chanted his name. The vampires worshiped. The heavens trembled.
And upon the ashen throne of Aurelia, Kaelthar Voidreign smiled, the sorrow of a lost man buried beneath the radiance of an ascending god.
He was the Divine Apex —and soon, even eternity would kneel.