The battlefield was quiet now, an eerie silence left in the wake of annihilation. Where once a vast fleet had cast shadows over the sea, only fragments remained—shattered hulls, broken sails, and the charred remains of arrogant invaders. Tensura's defenders stood atop the cliffs, their combined auras diminishing as the fight ended. Victory was absolute, yet the atmosphere carried a weight heavier than triumph.
The remnants of the invading forces had gathered on the largest of their floating ships, now stranded in the shallow waters near the coast. Their leaders stood trembling before the overwhelming might of the defenders. The tallest among them—a man once proud, now reduced to a quivering shadow of himself—knelt, his hands raised in surrender.
"Mercy!" he pleaded, his voice shaking. "Spare us, great ones! We acted out of ignorance, blinded by the promises of our masters. We did not know the extent of your power."
Veldanava, his golden scales glinting in the light of the setting sun, descended from the sky. His presence alone bent the air with divine authority, and the leader fell prostrate under the weight of his gaze. The other defenders—Zeyron, Rudra, Velgrynd, and Veldora—stood silently behind him, their auras like towering monuments of power.
Zeyron stepped forward, his face cold and impassive. "Ignorance is no excuse," he said, his voice echoing across the water. "You invaded our world. You slaughtered its creatures, desecrated its lands, and threatened its balance. Why should we let you live?"
The man's forehead touched the deck as he groveled. "Please… we only sought resources! Our masters pushed us into this. We swear never to return!"
Veldanava's voice, deep and resonant, silenced the man's cries. "Your actions were not driven by need, but by greed. You and your kind sought to pillage and enslave. Your crimes cannot be ignored."
He raised a clawed hand, light swirling around it in a vortex of divine power. The leaders of the invading fleet braced themselves for annihilation, their despair palpable.
But instead of delivering death, Veldanava waved his hand, and a vast portal of light opened behind the invaders. "Leave this world," he commanded. "Return to your own, and carry this message to your masters: If you ever dare to set foot in this realm again, there will be no mercy."
One by one, the invaders disappeared into the portal, their massive ships vanishing with them. In moments, the battlefield was empty save for Tensura's defenders. The waves lapped gently against the shore, as if the ocean itself sighed in relief.
---
The defenders returned to the capital, where Veldanava himself conjured a vast hall of starlight for a grand feast. The structure gleamed with ethereal beauty, its walls shimmering like the night sky and its floors reflecting the constellations above. Tables laden with food stretched endlessly, their bounty representing the many cultures of the world.
Velgrynd and Veldora, true to their sibling rivalry, competed in a drinking contest, their booming laughter filling the hall. Rudra sat at a table with his loyal knights, his usually stoic demeanor softened as he allowed himself to enjoy the moment. Even Zeyron, typically distant, found himself relaxing as he observed the lively gathering.
Lucia, her beauty radiant, approached Veldanava. "Dance with me," she said softly, holding out her hand.
The Creator, whose divine nature often made him seem detached, smiled and accepted. The two moved gracefully across the floor, their dance mesmerizing to all who watched. The room fell silent, the crowd awed by the sight of their unity.
---
Amid the revelry, Zeyron sat apart, his golden eyes scanning the hall. He reached out mentally to Nova, his ever-present companion and enigmatic ally.
"You've been quiet," Zeyron said. "Why aren't you enjoying the celebration?"
Nova's voice, usually quick to respond, hesitated. Finally, the reply came, subdued and distant.
[Master, don't you find something… strange?]
Zeyron frowned and asked, "What are you finding strange, Nova?"
Nova grew silent again, and after a long pause, he finally replied, [N… nothing.]
Zeyron, confused, chose to ignore the odd response, but within his consciousness, something else was happening. Nova, seated deep within Zeyron's mental plane, watched the outside world with wide, panicked eyes, clutching his head.
"What is happening?" Nova muttered in a trembling voice. He didn't know why, but every time he observed the outside world through Zeyron, an overwhelming urge to sever their connection gripped him.
---
As the celebration wound down, the leaders of the world gathered on the balcony overlooking the sea. The moonlight reflected off the waves, casting a serene glow over the water.
Veldanava, his golden form towering over the others, gazed toward the horizon where the invaders had first appeared. "This world is not a stage," he said, his voice firm and unyielding. "It is not a theater for outsiders to play out their ambitions. Those who seek to exploit it will find only ruin."
His words carried the weight of divine authority, a declaration that resonated across the land. The defenders, standing united, nodded in agreement.