The war did not begin in a year of strength.
It began in weakness.
The war began thirty years before the fall.
It was said that the Abyss erupted without warning a tear in the fabric of the world that split the northern skies asunder. It happened just as the continent was beginning to recover from a devastating civil war that had fractured the seven kingdoms and left their coffers empty, their armies thinned, and their unity shattered.
The new Emperor was crowned in an hour that required a giant — and a lesser man answered.
Within a decade, humanity lost the Wall of Death the great defensive bastion that had guarded the northern frontier for centuries. In the five years that followed, half the continent vanished beneath abyssal flame and beast tide.
Cities burned, Dynasties ended and hope thinned.
Then rose the Five Legends.
Warriors whose names became oaths upon the battlefield. Mages whose spells reshaped horizons. Leaders who refused extinction.
And among them stood their greatest
The Sovereign of Ashes, Grand Commander of the Human Resistance.
He slew the incompetent Emperor and dismantled the rot at the heart of the throne. He forged the scattered remnants of humanity into a single force. For fifteen brutal years they fought — reclaiming land, closing rifts, slaying abyssal generals.
But humanity had already been broken.
Civil war had wounded it too deeply.
Victory came in fragments, Losses came daily.
The kingdoms shrank and the maps darkened.
Until only one bastion remained:
The Holy City last stronghold of humanity against Avros and the Abyss.
And there, the final war erupted.
Every remaining soldier took up arms, every mage burned through their life force, even children carried blades.
The Five Legends stood at the front.
They did not speak.
There were no speeches left to give.
The beast tide gathered beyond the walls
The Five Legends stood in a loose line upon the broken steps of the Holy City. Ash drifted between them. The ground trembled.
Darian Voltaris. squinted at the black mass beyond the walls. "So is this the end".
Thorn Varkas planted his shield into the stone. "what were you hoping for?" he chuckled
"I was hoping for sleep," Dorian muttered.
Seraphine did not look away from the forming sigil at her fingertips. "You can rest when this is over."
Aelric's light flickered faintly against the ash-choked sky. "Or not."
No one corrected him.
Rhydan exhaled slowly. "How long do we hold?"
Vaelrion's voice was steady. "Long enough."
"For what?" Seraphine asked quietly.
Vaelrion's eyes remained on the horizon.
"For them to remember we stood."
Thorn nodded once.
Rhydan gave a crooked half-smile. "Well then. Let's make it unforgettable lets go out with a bang".
The ground trembled and the beasts and demons roared
And the Five stepped forward.
The first to fall was Darian Voltaris.
The storm he summoned split the abyssal host in two — lightning tearing through ranks of demons like divine wrath. For a moment, it seemed the tide might break.
Then the Demon King moved.
Darian's thunder vanished mid-strike.
His body fell from the sky without sound.
The Sovereign saw it.
He did not look away.
Seraphine screamed his name and answered with flame. The horizon turned white beneath her spell work. Three abyssal generals were reduced to ash in a single breath.
On the fourth, her magic faltered.
The backlash consumed her and Light imploded inward.
When it faded, nothing remained but scorched stone.
Thorn Vrakas- The Iron Bastion held the breach of the cathedral gates.
Alone.
Even as his armor split and his shield cracked, he did not retreat.
The Sovereign saw him finally driven to one knee.
Then swallowed by the tide.
Alric Dawnfall — The Radiant Blade rose last.
His radiance burned brighter than ever before — a final sunrise over a dying world. For one impossible instant, even the Abyss recoiled.
Then the sky darkened, And the light went out.
Silence followed.
Only one remained standing was the Sovereign of Ashes
The sky itself darkened as the Elder Dragon Eldritch appeared — a being known as the peak of continental power.
And with him came the Demon Emperor.
For three days and three nights, heaven and earth shook.
When the Elder Dragon finally fell, his body crashed down like a dying mountain, and the heavens themselves seemed to strain beneath his weight.
Upon the dragon's severed head stood the Sovereign of Ashes.
There was no army behind him.
Humanity had already faced extinction.
Still, he fought.
The beast tide crashed against the broken plaza in endless waves — claws scraping against consecrated stone, abyssal shrieks drowning out the wind.
He answered with steel.
Each step forward erased another cluster of horrors. Each swing carved a path through flesh and void alike. blood and filth ran through shattered marble gutters, mixing with dragon's blood.
The tide did not thin, it just kept attacking mindlessly.
Vaelrion did not measure the passage of hours.
He fought until his arms moved without thought.
Until wounds reopened and stopped mattering.
Until the battlefield blurred into motion and ruin.
He fought until time itself seemed to lose meaning.
Until the Apostle of the God of Death descended upon the ruined plaza of the Holy City.
Steel clashed against steel beneath a sky-stained red.
And when the battle ended, the Sovereign pulled his great sword from the Apostle's chest.
The mask fell and beneath it
He saw the face of the friend who had vanished years ago.
Blood filled his mouth as he coughed and sank beside the body. He laughed — and the laugh broke midway into something that was not quite grief and not quite madness.
He leaned back against the last standing pillar of the Grand Cathedral of the Goddess of Magic, Leia.
He looked at the sky above and tears streamed down his face the battlefield drunk on blood tasted grief after a long time.
No hymn answered him, no miracle came, Only silence.
And then
The corpse of the Apostle moved.
Divine authority descended.
The Demon God Avros manifested within the fallen vessel, and beneath his presence the world itself groaned.
Stone cracked, Air thickened and Reality itself bent.
Avros looked upon the Sovereign with contempt.
The Sovereign looked back with equal fire.
"Avros," he whispered.
The Demon God smiled.
"Tell me, great hero," he mocked softly. "Did you believe you avenged your world?"
With a flick of his hand, the sky tore open.
The true maw of the Abyss was revealed — endless realms layered beyond comprehension.
"You cannot even contemplate the number of worlds the Abyss has consumed."
Then, with a single effortless sweep.
He severed the Sovereign's head.
""Vaelrion Ashar… even sovereigns burn."
But in that instant, Something cracked.
Not bone, Not flesh.
but Something buried deep beneath the passing eons themselves.
The world stopped breathing.
Time ceased to flow.
The Demon God's eyes narrowed.
Not in anger but in something older.
Primal fear.
Light devoured the battlefield.
And the Sovereign's sinking consciousness vanished.
Thus ended the First Reign —of the Sovereign of Ashes, and that of mankind.