The next few weeks were a blur of decisions, each one more difficult than the last. Kael's newfound power gave him control over the realms, but it also brought an onslaught of enemies—both old and new. The remaining factions, desperate for their own slice of the shattered world, began to rally behind their banners, each one believing they were the true heirs to the divine throne.
But Kael knew he couldn't simply crush them all. He had to find a way to unite the world, to restore balance without becoming another tyrant. The question was: how?
It was during a meeting with a group of resistance leaders from the far north that the truth began to crystallize in Kael's mind. They spoke of the Blood Kings—ancient rulers who had once held dominion over the mortal realms. These kings had been overthrown by the gods long ago, but their bloodline still ran through the veins of the world's most powerful families.
"Elara," Kael said as they left the meeting, his mind racing. "The Blood Kings… they're the key."
Elara looked at him, her brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"
"They were once the rulers before the gods came into power. Their bloodline is still alive, and it could be used to bind the realms together—if we can unite the old blood with the new power I hold, we can restore order."
But Elara's face hardened. "You want to use the old bloodline to consolidate power? You're no better than the gods you've destroyed."
Kael paused. "I'm not trying to become a god, Elara. I'm trying to rebuild. If we don't act now, the world will fall into anarchy."
She looked at him, her eyes filled with doubt. "And if you fail, what will you become? A king who rules over a kingdom of ashes?"
Kael's resolve strengthened. "I won't fail."