The once peaceful roads that connected the different clans were now filled with the agonizing cries of fallen warriors, creating an atmosphere thick with despair and violence. The ground was now drenched in blood, spreading across the soil like a dark red tide.
The bodies of those who had fought bravely were scattered everywhere, mangled and damaged beyond recognition.
The continuous, relentless clashing of weapons only proved that this war was beyond stopping.
The battle had reached a point where nothing could halt its devastating course, and the echoes of metal hitting metal seemed endless.
Chaos had taken hold of the realms.
Hydrea, the wide and vast ocean that surrounded the magnificent island of the Aquarians, was now a sea of blood. Its once blue waters had turned a deep, ominous red, carrying the bodies of its dead warriors. Some bodies floated lifelessly, while sea monsters roamed the water's surface and the shores, creating havoc and destroying everything that stood in their way.
The citizens of Aquari watched in horror, their eyes filled with tears, as they witnessed their beloved Queen lying lifelessly atop her King, the Aquarian scepter cruelly plunged through both their bodies.
The sight was devastating.
Pieces of ice were scattered across the Frostpire Citadel as the mages, with every ounce of their strength, did all they could to prevent the rebel forces from reaching their grandmaster, who lay helpless in his bedchamber, weakened by his declining health and unable to join the fight.
Various glittering gemstones and precious jewels were scattered around the caves and through the grand halls of Luminforge Palace after the rebel army had broken in.
The palace, once the heart of the realm's prosperity, was now a scene of destruction and despair. With their king, queen, and most skilled warriors already lying lifeless on the cold ground, the remaining citizens and mages felt their hope fading with each passing moment.
It was as if the palace's very walls had absorbed the despair of those who once called it home.
High above, in the clouds where the magnificent Aetherian Palace stood, both the Emperor and Empress had already been defeated, leaving their people vulnerable and leaderless.
Yet, the 14 princesses, fierce and determined, were still standing tall, their eyes filled with anger and sorrow.
Driven by a fierce desire to protect their home and their people, they gripped their weapons tightly, striking down every enemy in their path without hesitation. Each slash and strike they delivered spoke of their dedication and refusal to surrender.
The remaining mages, who had managed to survive the onslaught, stood vigilant, protecting the princesses with all they had left, their loyalty unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds.
In the Nightfall Empire, the young emperor stood tall, his eyes blazing with determination as he protected his injured mother. Each enemy that dared to come near was met with a scorching wave of lava, summoned from the mighty Ember Inferno Volcano that loomed just behind the grand Pyroclast Palace. The volcano, fueled by the emperor's rage, erupted with bursts of molten fire, creating a formidable and thick barrier that no enemy could breach.
Amidst the battles raging across the different clans, the Prism League—a group of four exceptionally skilled young mages from the main clans, each hailed as a prodigy of their generation—was fighting for their lives.
They had infiltrated the main headquarters of the rebel clans, determined to end the conflict at its source.
Just a few hours prior, they had accomplished the remarkable feat of defeating the four manors that served as the strongholds of the rebels.
The main headquarters now stood as the last obstacle as it is the fortress where the rebel leaders and their most powerful mages and warriors had gathered, ready for a final stand.
Victory was within reach, and the mages of the Prism League could almost feel it. Their determination was as unyielding as their power. But just as they were preparing for the final strike to wipe out the headquarters, the soft sound of a baby crying reached their ears.
The unexpected noise caught them off guard, breaking their concentration.
Following the sound, they found the source—a newborn baby girl, the daughter of one of the rebel leaders. The sight of the innocent child shifted their focus. Though hesitant, all four mages agreed that the child should not be harmed.
It was a compassionate decision, but it was also a fatal one.
As they lowered their guard, the rebel generals seized the moment, sneaking up from behind and driving their swords through the hearts of the young mages, ending their lives instantly and mercilessly.
The echo of the generals' laughter rang through the headquarters, filling the halls with a chilling sense of triumph. It was a sound that signaled victory for the rebels and loss for everyone else. The infant's cries mingled with the sound of laughter.
Even in his final moments, Ruan, the leader of the Prism League, cradled the child protectively in his arms. His last act was one of defense, shielding the child from harm even as he took his last breath.
News of the deaths of the Prism League mages spread like wildfire throughout the realm. It was a blow that struck deep, sending waves of grief and despair through the hearts of many.
The Nightfall Emperor, Xichen, left his palace without a second thought, leading his best warriors in a direct charge to the rebels' main headquarters.
But even with all his haste, he was too late.
By the time he arrived, the battle was over, and all four of the prodigies had already stopped breathing.
Xichen dropped to his knees, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he reached out to Ruan's lifeless, cold body, trying in vain to wake him.
The sight of his beloved, now motionless, broke him in a way that nothing else ever had.
Without wasting another moment, he lifted Ruan's body and used his smoke power to summon a portal.
Before he stepped into the portal, he turned to his men and ordered them to hunt down those responsible for the murders, and to bring back the bodies of the other fallen members of the Prism League, so they could be returned to their families for proper burials.
Upon returning to Pyroclast Palace, Emperor Xichen collapsed on the ground, still holding Ruan in his arms, the dirt and blood staining his robes.
His warriors and citizens, seeing their Emperor in such a state, rushed to him with their faces etched with worry and sorrow.
Empress Dowager Xuwen, his mother, and First Master Ruyin, Ruan's father, hurried to him, their eyes wide with panic and grief.
When they reached him, they both fell apart, crying out in agony as they tried to touch the body of their son. It was a sight that no one in the crowd would ever forget, and not a single person spoke. They all shared in the collective mourning, their own tears streaming down as they watched the once lively Young Master now lifeless in the arms of their Emperor and his family.
This day marked a turning point that would forever be remembered as the one when the rebels took the life of one of the most talented and beloved mages in history.
On this day, Emperor Xichen lost the person who meant the most to him. And from this moment on, he swore that he would not rest until those responsible for Ruan's death paid the ultimate price for what they did.