Scene: A Writer's Room
The story begins in a young man's room, where he sits amidst scattered sheets of paper, scribbling down ideas. His gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts.
He searches for the spark to ignite his imagination and create a world more expansive than anything he has written before. His eyes scan the familiar objects in his room, seeking inspirations
His gaze falls upon a dusty book perched atop his wardrobe. It's a book by Carl's Brickman.
He grabs a chair and uses it to reach for the book. Dust dances in the air as he brushes it off, and he begins to read Carl's Brickman's work.
Hours pass, and he finishes half the book. Suddenly, a new idea bursts forth. He decides to write The Chronicle of the Supreme One.
"This could be good," he murmurs to himself, a smile gracing his lips. He sits down at his desk and picks up his pen, eager to bring his vision to life.
With a stroke of his pen, the story shifts to a parallel world.
Scene: From Reality to Another Dimension
As the young man writes, a figure falls from the heavens in another world. This is Haclius, the protagonist of the story, and his arrival marks the beginning of the Outcast Land saga.
A wave of dark energy, accompanied by a blinding black light, crashes onto the land, as if a fiery comet has descended from the sky, leaving a massive crater in its wake.
The dark energy spreads across the land, birthing unexpected creatures known as Dark Creatures. They emerge from the fallen energy, their forms twisting and contorting in the aftermath of this cataclysmic arrival.
In this world, the years are measured in A.A.E. — After Ancient Era. It is here that Haclius awakens in the barren Outcast Land.
Amidst the chaos, Haclius rises from the wreckage, surrounded by ravenous Dark Creatures, their eyes glinting with hunger as they circle him, ready to devour him.
A mighty roar erupts as the power within Haclius awakens, a testament to his strength. The Dark Creatures kneel before him, their guttural voices echoing a chorus of praise for the Supreme One.
But before he can react, a booming voice echoes from above, "Finally, the Supreme One is born… Haclius."
Meanwhile, in the Writer's World:
The young man closes his book, having finished writing his novel.
The events within his story unfold, taking on a life of their own. Oceans rise from the depths, and islands of land emerge. From the smallest insects to the largest beasts, all manner of creatures are born, breathing life into a once-barren world.
Time passes within the pages of the book. A colossal dragon shrieks from the heavens above the El Lyson Kingdom, its voice echoing with fury. "This is an abomination!" it roars.
Fear grips the people of the El Lyson Kingdom as the dragon appears above their city.
Panic ensues. People flee into the kingdom, cries of terror filling the air. Soldiers prepare for battle, their commander shouting, "Prepare yourselves! Inform the King of the invasion!" The soldiers race toward the palace.
"Your Majesty! There's an invasion outside the kingdom!" a trembling soldier cries.
"What's the commotion? What's happening?" the King asks.
"Your Majesty, a giant, enraged dragon is at our gates! It possesses terrible, unprecedented power!" the soldier replies, his voice breaking.
The King calls for his magic casters and soldiers to deal with the threat.
The dragon, consumed by rage, unleashes a powerful spell—Flame Shot! The blast engulfs the city, shattering buildings and turning the streets to ashes.
Soldiers are consumed by the flames, and twenty thousand perish in the dragon's fiery wrath.
The dragon roars with a deafening "Broaaar!"
The wounded soldiers, their faces contorted in fear and agony, scatter. Some flee, while others, paralyzed by their injuries, remain frozen in terror.
The King of the El Lyson Kingdom arrives. "Curse Healing Magic!" he shouts. The soldiers are instantly healed of their wounds.
"Barrier Wall! Fifteen layers!" The magic casters chant in unison, and a shimmering barrier encircles the city.
Summoning Magic!" the King roars, his voice echoing through the chaos. A portal opens in the heart of the city, and a legion of magically animated soldiers steps forth, their armor shimmering with ethereal light. The King erupts in laughter,
"Hahaha! My power is unmatched! For the first time in my life, I unleash my full potential! Hahaha!"
He turns his gaze towards the dragon, fury burning in his eyes. "Prepare to face your doom, beast! You shall pay for your attack on my kingdom! Soldiers, to battle!"
The dragon responds with a deafening roar, unleashing a blast of raw energy from its hand. It speaks in a guttural tongue, summoning portals above the kingdom, each shimmering with ominous energy.
From these portals emerge the dragon's army, a terrifying sight clad in crimson armor and scales, their wings unfurling menacingly. Towering over the human soldiers, they radiate an aura of fear. "From the heights, conquer their kind!" the dragon commands.
A fierce battle erupts as human and dragon forces clash, magic colliding with magic, power against power. Each soldier fights for their lives, hearts pounding with adrenaline. Three magic casters form a protective barrier around the King, their spells shielding him from the onslaught, while others engage the dragon's soldiers in a desperate dance of blades and spells.
The dragon's soldiers are formidable, their blades gleaming with deadly sharpness, radiating heat as they slice through flesh. They are at least a hundred times stronger than the human soldiers.
The King of the El Lyson Kingdom, wielding his bound swords ignited with azure flames, fights with a ferocity that belies his injuries. With every swing, he dispatches the dragon soldiers effortlessly, casting Tier 10 spells with unwavering precision.
Hours pass in a brutal stalemate, day turns to night, and the battlefield becomes a horrific landscape of devastation. Over 300,000 soldiers, nobles, war generals, and magic casters have perished on the El Lyson side, while only a fraction of the dragon's forces have fallen. Yet, the magic casters, the remaining soldiers, and the King continue to fight valiantly, refusing to yield.
Scene: The Arrival of Prince Saphar in Uporia
Meanwhile, in the distant kingdom of Uporia, the tremors of battle reverberate through the land, but news arrives much later in the night.
A lone figure, Prince Saphar of the El Lyson Kingdom, approaches the gates of Uporia, covered in wounds and desperation. "Open the gates! I must speak to the King!" he cries, his voice hoarse.
The guards are taken aback by the sight of the injured prince but quickly open the gate, allowing him to stagger inside. He presses forward towards the King's palace, urgency driving him despite his pain.
At the palace gates, the guards, noticing his noble attire, exchange wary glances.
"Is he from another kingdom?" one guard murmurs. "Dressed like a nobleman… Perhaps one of the princess's suitors? He seems rather late for the celebration," another remarks, concern knitting their brows. "Something must be gravely wrong!"
They approach the wounded prince, their expressions shifting to concern. "Why are you injured?"
"I am Prince Saphar of the El Lyson Kingdom," he gasps, clutching his side. "I must speak to the King, now!"
"Yes, your Highness. We'll escort you," they reply, bowing respectfully. The gates of the palace creak open, revealing the lavish interior.
Inside, the prince is met with a scene of joyous celebration. Nobles from distant kingdoms gather, reveling in the festivities of the princess's eighteenth birthday. Laughter and music fill the air, but all merriment halts as the wounded prince enters, his presence a stark contrast to the celebration.
"Forgive my abrupt entrance, Your Majesty!" he stammers, clutching his wounds, pain etched across his face.
Silence descends, heavy and tense, as the prince's plea resonates through the hall. The King of Uporia steps forward, his eyes narrowing with concern, and waves his hand, casting a healing spell that envelops the prince in a warm glow.
"Let the celebration continue!" the King commands, his voice resolute. He gestures for the prince to follow him to the council chamber, where they can speak privately.
"What news do you bring, young prince?" the King asks, concern evident in his voice. "Have you traveled far? What kingdom do you hail from? Why are you so wounded?"
"My father is the King of Lyson," Prince Saphar replies, his voice trembling. "Our kingdom is under attack by a colossal dragon, a being of immense power!" Tears well in his eyes, the weight of his words palpable.
The King's expression shifts to one of disbelief and fear. He rises to his feet, urgency flooding his thoughts. "My lord, I require your aid!" The prince kneels, desperation etched in his features. "The prophecy…" the King whispers, dread filling the air.
The King of Uporia summons his noble generals, magic users, and elite soldiers to the council chamber.
"Summoning magic, Tier 3, I call upon you now!" His voice reverberates with authority as his soldiers materialize, kneeling before him in unison.
"Your Majesty!" they cry out, their voices filled with respect and readiness.
"Rise, my loyal subjects," the King commands, his gaze sweeping across the assembled council. "Before you stands Prince Saphar of the Lyson Kingdom. Their kingdom, renowned for its strength and valor, has been besieged by a creature believed to exist only in legends. A dragon, unlike any we have ever encountered, has ravaged their land."
A collective gasp echoes through the chamber. Fear and wonder mingle in the air as the council members absorb the shocking news.
One nobleman steps forward, his voice laced with disbelief. "Your Majesty, isn't that merely a story, a myth?"
The King shakes his head, his expression grim. "No, this is a prophecy, one I could hardly believe myself. But if it's true… if the mighty kingdom of El Lyson has fallen to this dragon… what hope is there for us?"
A seasoned general steps forward, his voice firm yet tinged with worry. "Your Majesty, if a kingdom as strong as El Lyson is powerless against this creature, what can we possibly do?"
Prince Saphar rises to his feet, a flicker of determination igniting in his eyes. "There is hope! If we join forces, if we stand united, we can overcome this threat! If we don't act now, if we don't forge an alliance, it may be too late."
A chorus of agreement rises from the assembly. "Yes! We must unite!" they cry out.
The King, his gaze unwavering, speaks with authority. "Then spread the word! Inform every messenger, every kingdom, of the impending danger. We must act together, lest we all suffer the same fate."
With that, the council meeting concludes. As the members disperse, whispers fill the chamber, their voices tinged with fear and a sense of impending doom.
Meanwhile, the kingdom of El Lyson is engulfed in chaos. The battle rages on, a maelstrom of magic, steel, and despair. The dragon's forces continue their relentless assault, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The people of El Lyson are caught between a merciless enemy and the horrors of war—some fleeing their homes, others choosing to fight, and countless more succumbing to the chaos.
High above, the dragon king observes the devastation, his cold, fiery gaze fixed on the kingdom below. His soldiers carry out the brutal massacre, their swords slashing through human flesh with ease. The King of El Lyson, surrounded by three of the dragon's generals, faces a desperate battle. He unleashes every spell and incantation at his disposal, but his efforts are met with cruel laughter from the dragon king.
"Three against one? Hahaha!" the dragon king's voice echoes across the ravaged landscape.
Despite his wounds, the El Lyson King fights on with fierce determination. His face bears the mark of a warrior untouched by fear, a wild grin etched on his lips even as his body bears the weight of countless injuries.
Two of the El Lyson princes, Vic and Ray, have escaped the chaos and fled to Uporia, leaving their younger brothers to fight alongside their father. Vic, the second oldest, charges into battle, his voice ringing with righteous anger. "Bound Swords Penetration Overflow!" Ray, the eldest, follows closely behind. "Breezing Spell!"
With a roar of defiance, Vic strikes with a "Breezing Strike!" One of the dragon generals narrowly dodges, but the blow still lands, sending the creature crashing to the ground, heavily injured.
Ray, with a swift and precise attack, unleashes a "Penetration Splash!" The blow connects with another dragon general, sending him to his knees, mortally wounded.
In a cinematic display of unity and defiance, Vic and Ray leap to their father's side. The three kings stand together, their voices ringing with shared strength.
"Bwahaha! Bwahaha!" The three kings erupt in laughter, their voices resonating with the power of a united front. "It's an honor to fight alongside you, Father!" the princes shout, their faces alight with pride and determination.
"Hahaha! No one can defeat us! We are El Lyson! By my blood, by my name, we shall not falter! Bwahaha!" the King declares, a fierce light igniting in his eyes.
The King's laughter echoes across the battlefield, a beacon of defiance amidst the chaos.
High above, the dragon king observes the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and disdain. He murmurs to himself, "Hmmm… I must end this conflict."
With a powerful beat of his wings, he descends from the sky, each flap sending tremors through the land. With a dramatic crash, he lands in the midst of the battle, his arrival heralding a new wave of terror. He roars, "Braaaawl!!!!! Roar!!!" The ground shudders beneath him, a gale of wind whipping across the battlefield as his thunderous voice reverberates through the air.
The El Lyson King, now faced with a foe of unmatched power, stands his ground. He understands that this is the final stand—the moment when the fate of his kingdom, his family, and his people will be decided.
To be continued...