"What?!"
Arthur dropped his wooden sword, stunned by the decree from the divine messenger Xyrakoth. He muttered.
"This can't be true. Lady Helle would never disrespect the gods, let alone Zuryxal, the God of Creation."
Without hesitation, Arthur dashed out of the training room, heading for the Oracle Chamber.
His thoughts raced. πβπ¦ ππ π΄ππππππ'π πππ‘π π π ππ’ππ ππ? πΌπ‘'π ππππππ¦ π πππ¦ π ππππ βπ πππ’πππ‘ππ π€ππ‘β βππ ππππππ¦, πππ πππ€ βππ πππ‘βππ ππ πππππ βπ’ππ‘ππ.
Approaching the temple entrance, Arthur decided to leave for the Wolven Fortress to aid his friend. But before he could, two figures blocked his path.
Arthur stumbled, startled, then recognized them. "Big Brother! Big Sis! Why are you in my way?"
It was Artheus Pendragon and Arthurra Pendragon, their piercing blue eyes reflecting caution.
"Arthur, I know what you're planning," Artheus said calmly. "As your elder brother, I can't let you go."
Arthurra added firmly, "You need to think, Arthur. You're forbidden to leave the sanctuary."
Arthur's frustration boiled over. "Think?! My friend needs me! Didn't you hear the decree? And you both serve the Hero! Why are you doing nothing when you should be helping them?"
Before they could respond, an icy presence silenced them.
A slow, deliberate tapping echoed through the sanctuary. An old woman in a flowing white robe, her hair silver like moonlight, approached. She leaned on a wooden staff, her gaze serene yet commanding.
"And what exactly do you plan to do, Arthur?"
The siblings turned and immediately bowed. "Greetings, Oracle Merlina."
The Oracle's steps ceased as she smiled at Arthur and motioned for him to step forward. He obeyed without hesitation.
"My child, it's not that we don't wish to help your friends. But even if we wanted to, we cannot," she said softly, her voice brimming with quiet authority.
"Why not?" Arthur asked desperately.
"Aren't we powerful enough?"
Merlina nodded.
"Indeed we are, but this temple is neutral groundβa place where empires' fates are judged. If we aid the Wolvens, it will provoke the other empires and anger the gods themselves. Defying the heavens brings only destruction."
Her words sank deep, and Arthur realized the grim truth. Even if he intervened, his actions could doom the temple and its people. He clenched his fists in silent fury.
His siblings placed comforting hands on his shoulders as Merlina turned her gaze to the storm-darkened sky.
"The days ahead will not be peaceful," she murmured. "May the gods have mercy on us all."
Back at the Wolven Fortress, Asher and Helle were already on the move, standing atop the thick fortified walls. They gazed down at the mass of rankers gathered below, all in pursuit of Helle.
Asher turned to look at Helle, who stood with a fierce determination in her eyes, ready to fight for her life and her children.
Reaching out, Asher placed a reassuring hand over hers. "We'll face them together," he whispered.
Helle met his gaze, her expression speaking volumes. A faint smile crossed her lips as she gave a brief nod.
Asher's attention shifted back to the enemies below. Among the throng, a single figure emerged from the masses, glittering against the firelit darkness.
It was a man, mounted atop a colossal, mechanical steedβa monstrous beast with gleaming metal limbs and eyes that glowed like embers in the night.
The rider wore no helm; his bald head shone in the dim light, and his wide, muscular frame cast an imposing shadow. He looked up at the couple with a smug smile, his gaze locking onto theirs.
It was Gad.
Asher's cousinβthe man he had once called brother. Gad, whom Asher had trusted with his life countless times on the battlefield.
And yet, here he was, leading the charge against him, commanding the famed Lion Guards, the elite soldiers of Avalonβhis family's own royal force.
Neither Asher nor Helle could have imagined such a betrayal in a million years. The sting cut deeper than any blade.
Not only had Asher's father, the man he had served his entire life, betrayed him, but now even the cousin he called a brother had come to take his wife.
Asher closed his eyes, forcing himself to rein in the storm of emotions raging within.
All he had done... all he had sacrificed⦠for this? Every moment he could have spent with his family had been given in service to humanity, fighting under the watchful gaze of the gods.
And now, in the dead of night, they had come to take what little he had left.
The silence was broken by the blast of a horn, its booming echo reverberating across the battlefield.
"Asher, son of Emperor Leo," Gad's commanding voice rang out. "I am here under the orders of the gods and the throne of Avalon. Surrender Helle Valor, and no harm shall come to you or your kin."
Asher's golden gaze burned with rage as he stared intently at Gad. His voice was low, trembling with controlled fury.
"You come to demand my wife, Gad? After everything I've done for the mortal continents? For the gods? I fought beside you, bled beside youβand now you stand here as my enemy?"
Gad smirked, replying with a mocking tone.
"The gods have decreed it, Asher. They offer great rewards to anyone who delivers Helle Valor to their temples. The artifact promised can raise a ranker by two full levels. The world cannot ignore such a prize."
Asher's expression darkened. He scanned the mass of rankers, their silence speaking volumes. Then, coldly, he asked, "The worldβor you?"
Gad hesitated, momentarily silenced.
"You would betray me for a god's trinket, cousin?" Asher demanded, his voice sharp as steel.
Gad placed a hand on his chin, feigning thought before responding, "Is it betrayal to follow the gods' will, brother? This is the path set before me. Stand aside."
As the conversation continued, ripples of unease spread through the ranks of soldiers below.
Some of the rankers, burdened with guilt, hesitated, their hands faltering on their weapons. They remembered the hero who had once saved them.
Others, however, were resolute, willing to cut down anyone standing in their way to claim the gods' rewardβeven the hero himself.
Helle, unable to contain her fury, interrupted. "You would tear apart our family, Gad? You, who have sat at our table, who held my children when they were born?"
For a fleeting moment, Gad's gaze wavered, but it was gone in an instant. He straightened in the saddle, his expression hardening into mockery. "This is not personal, Helle. This is the gods' will."
That was it. The man they thought they knew was no more.
Asher and Helle exchanged a brief, chilling glance before turning away.
Inside the fortress grounds, the Wolven Warriors stood ready, prepared to lay down their lives for the family they served. Asher's chest swelled with pride as he looked upon them, knowing how far they had come under his command.
Helle and Asher entered the mansion, where their children, Abaddon and his elder sister, waited anxiously.
The children rushed toward their parents, relieved by their return.
After a brief exchange, Asher and Helle made their decision. Helle would stay to protect the children, while Asher led the Wolven Warriors into battle.
Before leaving, Asher turned to his family one last time.
"Helle," he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. "I promise to return victorious."
"I know, my love," she replied, her voice trembling. "But I can't stand by and let you face them alone. This is my battle too."
Asher gently squeezed her hands, managing a small smile. "If you're out there with me⦠who will keep them safe?"
Helle nodded reluctantly as Asher turned away, leaving the hall. Abaddon watched his father's retreating figure, unable to find the words to stop him.
Walking through the ranks of his warriors, Asher's eyes gleamed with a golden light. His voice was low, a whisper carried only by the cold night air.
"They will regret this," he murmured, his fists clenched. "Every last one of them. Tonight, the Erythrians will remember who I am. I will send every filthy soul here to Xerathar."
Outside, the army of rankers waited, restless and murmuring as they eyed the fortress's silent walls with growing impatience.
"What's this?" a sneering voice called out from the crowd, loud enough to reach Gad's ears.
"The mighty hero of humanity, cowering behind his walls?"
Another ranker laughed and shook his head. "So much for bravery. Maybe he's not so great after all."
Gad raised a hand, silencing the chatter. Though he relished hearing such remarks, he sought to stoke the flames even further.
"It seems Asher has lost his nerve," he declared, his voice booming over the crowd. "A hero in name only, hiding behind stone and mortar, too afraid to face his own people."
The crowd murmured in agreement, and mocking laughter spread, punctuated by insults hurled at the fortress.
"If he's such a hero, why isn't he here to face us? Why the silence?"
Seeing the growing unrest, Gad felt a surge of satisfaction. Overcome with excitement, he raised his hand and signaled the Lion Guards to bring down the fortress gates.
"If the hero won't come to us, we'll take the fight to himβand drag him and his wife out ourselves."
But just as the Lion Guards surged forward, a deep rumble rolled through the ground. The heavy iron gates of the fortress began to creak open, their echoing groan chilling the air.
The laughter and jeers died instantly, replaced by an eerie silence. All eyes turned to the gates. Breath caught in the throats of the rankers as a figure emerged from the shadows, followed by the imposing Wolven Battalion, their banners raised high.
Their presence seemed to part the oppressive clouds, allowing the moonlight to pierce through once more, casting an ethereal glow upon the scene.
Asher.
Clad in golden war gear, his armor radiated a soft, supernatural luminescence under the pale moonlight. The etchings of the Avalon Empire adorned its edges, symbols that spoke of his lineage and the honor he once bore with pride.
His helmet rested under his arm, leaving his cold, unyielding face exposed as he strode forward with deliberate, measured steps.
Each step he took reverberated through the air, sending waves of energy that pressed against the rankers like an invisible weight. A glimpse of the power that had earned him the title of humanity's strongest left even the boldest among them retreating a step in fear.
For the first time, they began to understand. This was no ordinary man.
The Lion Guards, so eager moments ago, now hesitated, backing away behind Gad. Perched atop his steed, Gad felt the crushing pressure of Asher's presence.
"So, you finally come out," Gad sneered, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. "Took you long enough."
Asher didn't respond. His golden eyes, alight with fury, bore into Gad with such intensity that he felt stripped bareβreduced to nothing more than a petty thief caught in the act.
"You come here," Asher said in a low, menacing tone, "to the home I built, to take from me what I've fought my entire life to protect. And you call yourselves allies. Friends. Family."
The words hung heavy in the air, laced with raw pain and simmering rage.
"You served the gods, Asher," Gad replied, struggling to regain his composure. "And the gods demand what is theirs. We're only here to fulfill their will."
"Their will?" Asher growled, his voice trembling with restrained wrath.
"You serve them so willingly, yet they ask for nothing from you, do they? Always from me. I've given them my allβmy service, my time, my youth. And yetβ¦"
Gad, sensing the growing danger, snatched a sword from a nearby soldier. The killing intent radiating from Asher was palpable, a force that seemed to constrict the air.
"You have no right to question the gods we serve!" Gad snapped, clutching the blade tightly. "This is bigger than youβbigger than your family! The gods gave us everything, and now they seek to reclaim what is theirs. You're the one who disrespects them."
Asher's teeth clenched, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of rankers. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if he might lose control entirely. His body moved instinctively, taking a step forward.
"I will not let them take what is mine," he said, his voice calm yet thunderous. "If any of you still wish to try⦠step forward."
The quiet fury in his words made the rankers shudder. Their confidence wavered as glances of doubt spread among them.
Even Gad, for all his pride and ambition, hesitated, questioning for a fleeting second whether he could survive the path he had chosen. But his pride burned away the doubt, urging him forward.
"You cannot fight the Erythrians, Asher," Gad said firmly. "Stand down, and you might yet survive. This isn't about you."
But Asher had heard enough. Without another word, a torrent of golden mantra energy erupted from his body, spiraling into the air like a roaring tempest. The radiant aura surrounded him, a relentless flood of power that seemed endless.
His long golden hair shimmered in the wind as he pointed at the crowd, his voice ringing out like a thunderclap.
"From this day forward, I serve no gods. I'll use your corpses to send a message to the beings you call gods."
It was a declaration of defianceβwords no mortal would dare to speak. Yet here he stood, a man alone, prepared to defy the divine.