Night descended, draping the world in shadows. The crescent moon hung in the sky like the one-eyed gaze of a reaper, overlooking the burning ruins of Azure Dragon City. The fractured clouds reflected a ghostly crimson glow, casting a sinister hue over the inferno that devoured the city.
Once an impenetrable stronghold, the city walls now ran rivers of blood. Shattered banners fluttered weakly in the wind, their former insignias barely discernible beneath the grime of battle. Broken spears, shattered swords, and fallen arrows littered the stone streets, while the collapsed watchtowers lay in ruins, their final guardians lying lifeless among the wreckage. The blood had yet to grow cold.
The air was thick with the scent of iron and charred flesh, the acrid smoke twisting and writhing like the lingering wails of the dead. Flames painted the night in an eerie red glow, their flickering light revealing the crumbling walls and lifeless corpses strewn across the city. From the ruins echoed the distant screams of the dying, punctuated by the cruel laughter and savage howls of the Legion of Dusk.
Azure Dragon City—a once-mighty beacon of strength—was nothing more than a flickering candle in the wind, swaying precariously before the oncoming storm.
The Great Hall: A Storm on the Horizon
Within the great hall, the dim candlelight cast long, wavering shadows across the solemn faces of those gathered.
Esker Jiao stood at the center, clad in silver-blue armor, his posture reminiscent of a tattered Azure Dragon banner—still standing, but battered and worn. His sharp gaze cut through the silence, unwavering, yet burdened with both contemplation and fury.
"The northern defenses… do they still hold?"
His voice rumbled like distant thunder, barely restraining the fury simmering beneath.
A bloodied soldier staggered forward, collapsing to his knees. His armor was shattered, his body marred with fresh wounds, yet it was the weight of his words that truly drained the strength from him.
"My Lord… the northern city… has fallen."
Silence.
The candle flames flickered violently. Elena clutched at her sleeve, her fingers trembling ever so slightly. An ominous foreboding settled over her gaze.
Esker's voice remained low but unyielding.
"And the warriors of our house?"
The soldier bowed his head lower, his voice hoarse.
"…All slain."
For a moment, Esker closed his eyes. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles whitening, his grip so firm it seemed as if he was trying to crush the blade within his palm.
Then, he exhaled, opening his eyes once more.
His gaze was like the abyss—not filled with fear, but with unshakable resolve.
"The Legion of Dusk… has finally come."
It was neither a question nor a revelation.
It was simply—the confirmation of fate.
The Bloodstained Sky
Hurried footsteps echoed beyond the great hall.
A moment later, a silver-armored guard stumbled through the entrance, his once-pristine armor now cracked and battered. A deep, grievous wound tore across his shoulder, blood seeping through the gaps in his armor, trailing a dark crimson path across the marble floor.
He dropped to one knee, his breath ragged, his voice trembling with urgency.
"My lord—disaster has struck! The western gate… the western gate has fallen!"
A heavy silence gripped the room.
Esker Jiao slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes sharp as lightning, radiating an aura so intense it seemed capable of piercing the very darkness itself.
His voice, low and oppressive, carried the weight of an impending storm.
"Who dares lay siege to Azure Dragon City?"
The guard gritted his teeth, his voice shaking from a mixture of exhaustion and fear.
"The Legion of Dusk! They have breached the walls—slaughtering civilians—marching toward the heart of our domain!"
Before his words had even fully settled, a crimson glow suddenly illuminated the great hall's ceiling, its eerie light spreading like hellfire, tearing through the night's veil.
Then—a deafening explosion thundered from the distance.
The earth shuddered, the very foundation of the city quaking beneath the force. Even the vaulted ceiling of the great hall trembled, dust trickling from its ancient stones.
Esker rose to his feet.
The sound of his armor shifting—cold steel meeting steel—echoed through the silent chamber. His expression was unreadable, but there was no fear in his eyes.
Only grim resolve.
His hand drifted to the hilt of his sword, fingers brushing against the worn grip, its polished steel reflecting the flickering light.
"Sooner than expected…" he murmured, his voice heavy—like a mountain weighing down upon the battlefield before the storm of war.
And in that voice—killing intent had already begun to take shape.
Elena stood as well, her movements slow, deliberate. She turned toward me, her gaze calm as still water—yet unwavering as iron.
"Adrian, you must leave. Now."
"What?!"
I snapped my head up, my heart clenching as if caught in an iron grip.
"Azure Dragon City is our home! House Jiao will not fall—I will fight!"
Elena's hand rested firmly on my shoulder. Warm. Steady.
Her voice remained soft, yet beneath its gentleness lay an undeniable finality.
"Your duty is not yet fulfilled."
A shadow of sorrow flickered in her gaze, but it did not waver.
"The power of Jiao has yet to awaken. You cannot defeat them."
"But—"
"That is an order."
My father's voice crashed through the hall like rolling thunder, its sheer force rattling my very bones.
It was the voice of a man who would not be defied.
It was the voice of a warrior who had already chosen his fate.
His gaze pinned me in place, a mountain unshaken by the storm.
"We will hold them off." His words were measured, unyielding. "But you—must survive."
The ground trembled beneath us.
The fires of war had reached our gates.
And this battle—was destined to be a war with no return.
The Scourge of War
Azure Dragon City burned, writhing in the flames like a dying behemoth, its final roars swallowed by the inferno.
The fire-streaked sky bathed the ruins in a crimson glow. Rivers of blood ran through the shattered streets, the air thick with the acrid stench of scorched flesh and rusted iron.
Screams. Wails. The relentless clash of steel upon steel.
A symphony of madness, a requiem of destruction, echoed through the collapsing city. Houses crumbled into dust, stone shards flying as wooden beams snapped and were devoured by the flames. The city's very bones fractured beneath the inferno, reducing all hope to smoldering embers.
The guards dragged me through the family corridors, their grip unyielding. The wind carried embers and ash, and with it, a suffocating sense of inescapable despair.
The enemy had arrived.
Ahead, a formation of black-armored warriors advanced down the ruined streets.
Silhouetted against the firelight, they looked less like men and more like demons—twisted shadows given form.
Their armor, forged in abyssal steel, gleamed with an unnatural cold luster, while their swords still dripped with fresh, scalding blood. With every step, their boots splashed through the viscous pools of the fallen, dragging crimson trails in their wake.
"Slaughter every last one of the Starborn!"
The leading Legion commander swung his bloodstained battle axe, his voice tearing through the night with fanatical fervor.
His warriors bellowed in unison, their voices low, guttural—like starving beasts upon the scent of prey.
The warriors of House Jiao did not retreat.
With a unified roar, they charged into battle, their spear formations crackling with electric fury. The power of the Azure Dragon erupted, lightning slicing through the air, spears tearing through the Legion's cursed armor, the scent of charred flesh filling the battlefield.
Screams of agony. The scent of burning blood.
Yet—the warriors of the Legion did not fall.
Their abyssal-blue eyes glowed with an unnatural coldness, their bodies warped and grotesque, twisted by the corruption of the Abyss.
Even as lightning scorched their flesh, even as limbs were severed, they did not stop.
They felt no pain. They knew no fear.
Even as they collapsed, the darkness within their mangled corpses writhed, shifting, growing, as though preparing to birth something even more monstrous.
This was the curse of the Abyss.
"Keep moving!"
The captain of my guards roared, his blade infused with celestial power, severing a Legion warrior's head in a single swing. Black blood splattered across his face, yet he did not flinch.
We fought through the carnage, carving a path through the corpses, rushing toward the secret passage beneath the manor.
Victory was beyond us now. Survival was all that remained.
Then—a figure appeared in the firelit ruins.
A lone silhouette stood before the entrance.
Blocking our escape.
His black robes rippled in the night wind, his silver-white hair catching the fire's glow, reflecting a cold, merciless brilliance.
His deep-set eyes, darker than the abyss itself, remained void of emotion, as if the slaughter around him did not exist.
The flames roared behind him, but he remained untouched, standing above the carnage, beyond it—as if the rivers of blood at his feet held no meaning.
In that instant, my breath caught.
A cold vice gripped my chest, my pulse pounding against my ribs.
I knew him.
"…Calem…"
My voice was hoarse. It nearly broke.
My elder brother.
The one I had admired most.
The strongest warrior of our family.
And yet, now—he stood among the enemy.
No—he did not just stand among them.
He was their commander.
The leader of the Legion of Dusk.
Calem's Betrayal
Fire consumed the streets.
Smoke coiled like serpents, slithering through the ruins of Azure Dragon City, its suffocating tendrils smothering the dying embers of what was once our home.
The acrid stench of burning flesh and blood clung to the air, thick and suffocating. Wails of the fallen drowned beneath the relentless thunder of war drums and the clash of steel.
I stumbled up the shattered stone steps, my heartbeat pounding like a war drum in my chest.
The sounds of battle grew closer—the screams, the steel, the death.
The guards around me fought with all they had, forcing a path through the carnage, desperately pushing me toward the escape passage.
But just as we reached the entrance—
A figure stepped into our path.
The wind howled, tearing at the midnight-black robes that billowed around him.
The fire's glow reflected coldly against his silver-white hair, casting his sharp features into an ethereal contrast of light and shadow.
A familiar face.
Chiseled. Cold. Unwavering.
His eyes—deep as the abyss, devoid of warmth.
"Adrian."
His voice was low, a blade of ice sliding across my throat, cutting deep into the part of me that refused to believe what stood before me.
I froze.
Somewhere in the depths of my mind, a fragile part of me fought against the truth.
"You…" I stared at him, disbelief constricting my breath. "Why are you here?"
Calem smiled.
A slow, deliberate movement.
He unsheathed his sword, its obsidian blade wreathed in shifting mist—not mist, but something far worse. The living tendrils of the Abyss slithered along its surface, as though feeding upon the very air.
"House Jiao is finished."
His voice remained as gentle as it had always been.
Yet there was no warmth left in it.
"Azure Dragon City is nothing but the past. Its fall was inevitable."
The words stripped the breath from my lungs.
A chill burrowed into my bones, seeping through my veins like poison.
My fists clenched.
My nails bit into my palms, blood welling beneath my grip.
"You betrayed us."
The words scraped from my throat, raw, barely restrained.
Calem's expression did not waver.
"This isn't betrayal."
"This is clarity."
He lifted his blade, its edge pointed directly at my heart.
"You are still shackled by false honor, blind to reality."
"Lies!"
The shout tore from me, my fury blazing like wildfire.
"You fought for this family once! And now you stand with its destroyers?!"
For the first time, something flickered in Calem's gaze.
Not doubt. Not regret.
Indifference.
As if my rage was nothing more than a child's tantrum.
"I merely chose the side of power."
His voice was as steady as ever, untouched by the storm that raged within me.
He studied me, gaze unreadable, then exhaled softly.
A quiet, almost mocking whisper—
"But you… are not worthy."
The blade moved.
A flash of black steel.
A whisper of death.
The void-like energy of his sword tore through the air—rushing straight for my throat!
Seth's Rescue
Just as death's shadow loomed over me, a blinding arc of lightning tore through the darkness—colliding head-on with the abyssal sword energy.
BOOM!
A violent shockwave exploded outward, scattering debris and shattering what remained of the ruins around us.
"Adrian, go!"
From the shadows, Elder Seth emerged.
His silver hair whipped in the howling winds, his spear crackling with electric fury. His stance was steady—unshakable as a mountain, his gaze locked onto Calem's every movement, the tip of his spear subtly dipping as he braced for combat.
Calem withdrew his sword, stepping back half a pace.
His eyes flicked toward Seth, the glint of firelight reflecting in his icy, expressionless gaze.
"Old man. Still clinging to your foolish ideals?"
Seth scoffed, his spear tilting ever so slightly. Azure lightning crawled along its blade, its glow illuminating the sharp lines of his face.
"Foolish? You abandoned your family—betrayed your blood—and now you dare speak of a 'new order' under the Legion of Dusk?"
A faint smirk tugged at the corners of Calem's lips.
"Family? Nothing more than a relic of the past. A shackle unfit for the strong."
The moment his words fell, a surge of abyssal mist engulfed his blade, the darkness deepening, twisting.
With a single step, he vanished.
Seth's eyes narrowed.
A flick of his wrist—the spear lunged forward, piercing the air in a flash of lightning.
The clash was instant—
A storm of thunder and darkness erupted, the air itself splitting apart beneath the sheer force of their battle.
Sparks burst forth as sword met spear, the collision tearing through the remains of the courtyard.
Cracked stone crumbled into dust, the impact shaking the very ground beneath our feet.
"GO!"
Seth's voice was firm, unwavering.
With a final thrust, his spear pulsed with energy, breaking through Calem's sword arc, forcing him back.
The guards did not hesitate this time.
Hands gripped my arms, yanking me backward.
Dragging me toward the underground passage.
The sounds of battle roared behind me—the crash of thunder, the shrieks of Legion warriors, the tremors of a city on the brink of collapse.
The stone doors of the secret passage groaned shut, sealing away the battlefield above.
I turned, one last look at Azure Dragon City—
Flames consuming the sky.
The shattered remains of the Jiao estate.
The corpses of my kin.
The ruined banners, tattered and soaked in blood, still swayed in the night air, refusing to fall.
This was the night of House Jiao's downfall.
I clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my skin.
Fury burned within me.
This night, I lost everything.
But my fate—was far from over.