The Continent of Glory, once basking in the brief and precious peace that followed the flames of war, now stood on the brink of a grim resurgence. That peace, as radiant and fleeting as a dream, lulled its people into believing tranquillity and prosperity would reign eternal. But unbeknownst to them, the wheels of fate were turning once more, and a foreboding crisis was brewing in the shadows, like storm clouds gathering in the distant horizon.
"These past days, I've felt a growing unease, as though some malevolent force is stirring in the depths of the unseen," said Solomon one evening, his brow furrowed in thought as he strolled through the gardens of the Victoria family's castle.
Liana, walking beside him, looked equally concerned, a faint trace of worry glimmering in her eyes. "I've noticed it too," she replied softly. "Even the atmosphere within the castle feels different, as though something is amiss. I just hope it's merely our imagination."
Alas, their fears were not unfounded. In the days that followed, a string of chilling incidents unfolded across the remote regions of the continent, plunging the hearts of many into dread.
In the once peaceful village of Greenworth, terror descended like a plague. Overnight, the idyllic hamlet was transformed into a hellscape. A lone survivor, trembling with fear, arrived at the Victoria family estate, begging for aid.
"Milord, please, save us! Our village… our village has been struck by a calamity!" The villager collapsed to his knees, his voice shaking with panic.
Solomon rushed to the man's side and helped him up. His expression turned grave as he asked, "Calm yourself. Tell me—what happened?"
The villager, his face pale as death, gasped for breath before stammering, "It was during the night… A sinister darkness blanketed the village. One by one, everyone started dying, just like that! When I woke in the morning, I saw… I saw the lifeless bodies of my friends and family, their eyes wide open in terror, their faces frozen in ghastly expressions… And the plants, the trees, even the soil—it was as if something had drained all life from the land. Everything was dead! Cracked, dry, and barren!"
Hearing this, Solomon's expression turned grim. He realised this was no ordinary disaster. There was no doubt that a powerful and sinister force was at work.
"It seems this dark power is already making its move. I must investigate this immediately," Solomon declared solemnly as he returned to the castle to confer with Duke Arthur.
Arthur nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with concern. "My son, this journey will be fraught with peril. You must proceed with caution. But we cannot let this darkness fester—it must be eradicated before it spreads further."
"Father, you have my word. I will find the source of this evil and put an end to it," Solomon replied with unwavering determination.
Without further hesitation, Solomon bid farewell to his family and companions, setting forth on a journey laden with danger and uncertainty.
As he traversed dense forests, he couldn't ignore the signs of unease that seemed to plague the land. Animals, usually timid or docile, now darted about in a frenzy, their cries filled with an unmistakable fear. A rabbit dashed past Solomon's feet, squealing in terror as it vanished into the underbrush.
"This dark power has seeped so deeply into the land that even its creatures can feel it," Solomon murmured to himself as he pressed onward.
Eventually, he came to a river. The once clear waters were now murky, black as ink, and reeked of decay.
"For the river to become so polluted… The corruption is spreading fast," he muttered, his concern deepening.
Through sheer perseverance, Solomon unearthed clues that led him to an ancient evil thought to be long forgotten. In a secluded library, he sought the counsel of a learned and aged scholar. Presenting the scholar with strange symbols he had uncovered, Solomon watched as the old man's face grew pale with alarm.
"Young man, these symbols… I've never seen them in my lifetime. But according to ancient texts, they resemble markings associated with the demons of the Elder Age," the scholar began, his voice heavy with foreboding. "Long ago, beings of immense darkness descended upon this continent. These demons were born of pure malice, their blood-red eyes glowing like coals, and their fiery breath capable of reducing the land to ashes. They ravaged the continent, leaving nothing but despair in their wake."
"And what happened to them?" Solomon pressed, his tone urgent.
The scholar sighed deeply. "A hero rose to confront them. Armed with a divine weapon of light, he waged a battle so fierce that the earth itself trembled. In the end, the hero sacrificed his life to seal the demons deep within the earth, locking away their power for eternity."
"But now…" Solomon paused, his mind racing. "Could it be that the seal has weakened?"
"It's possible," the scholar admitted gravely. "The seal may have eroded with the passage of time, allowing their dark energy to seep through. What you've seen so far is merely a hint of their strength. If left unchecked, the full resurgence of this evil would bring devastation beyond imagination."
Solomon left the library, burdened with the weight of this revelation. He knew that the fate of the continent now rested on his shoulders.
While following further leads, Solomon stumbled upon a mysterious cave. Inside, he found peculiar footprints embedded in the ground—shapes that defied description, clearly not of human origin. They exuded an ominous presence, as though marking the path of some unspeakable creature.
"What manner of beast could have left these prints?" Solomon wondered aloud. "Could this be tied to the dark power I seek?"
Before he could delve deeper, a chilling laugh echoed through the cavern, reverberating off the stone walls.
"Solomon… Did you truly believe you could halt the inevitable? How foolish you are…"
The voice was cold and eerie, its source invisible. The air in the cave turned deathly still.
"Who's there? Show yourself!" Solomon demanded, gripping the hilt of his Starblade tightly.
But no reply came. Only the sinister echo of that laughter lingered, sending shivers down his spine.
Who—or what—was the source of that voice? What dreadful force lurked in the darkness, waiting to strike? The Continent of Glory, once thriving under the illusion of peace, now faced the grim shadow of an unknown calamity. Solomon could only steel himself, for the path ahead was shrouded in peril and uncertainty. The true battle was only beginning.