500 Years Ago: The Last Stand

Legends spoke of him. His name was whispered in reverence, a hymn of defiance in a world drowning in despair. Saaransh. The hero who ignited a flame of hope when the world was on the verge of ruin.

The sky had long since lost its color. What was once a boundless blue now lay suffocated under endless gray, choked by the remnants of death. The wind howled through barren wastelands, carrying the scent of charred remains and decay. Cities lay in ruin, their streets forever stained with blood. Shattered weapons littered the battlefields like forgotten memories, their owners nothing more than silent corpses lost to time. 

This was the world under Vorkhael's rule.

Saaransh had seen it all. He had walked through desolate towns where only the ghosts of the past remained. He had heard the cries of the forsaken warriors who had once stood proud, now reduced to hollow shells of grief and regret. And now, he stood at the precipice of it all. 

The final battle. 

A storm gathered above the palace of the Demon King, its twisted spires reaching into the heavens like cursed talons. Each step forward was met with a suffocating pressure, an unnatural weight pressing down upon them, whispering of inevitable doom. But Saaransh did not falter. 

He was not alone. 

Five legends stood by his side, warriors whose names would be etched into history. 

Ryu Jin-ha, the master of wind and lightning, a storm given human form. 

Baek Do-hyeon, the phantom assassin, swift as death itself.

Kang Ha-jun, the berserker, his flames consuming all in his path. 

Yun Seo-rin, the mistress of frost, whose beauty was rivaled only by her lethality. 

And at their lead Saaransh. 

He gripped the hilts of his twin swords Frostfang and Emberclaw, ice and fire entwined in his hands. His heart was heavy, not with fear, but with the weight of the fallen. Those who had given their lives so that they might stand here today. 

They could not fail. 

They would not fail. 

The Demon King's Throne 

A throne of obsidian loomed before them, and upon it sat the end of all things,Vorkhael. 

He did not rise. He did not reach for a weapon. He merely watched them, crimson eyes glinting with amusement, his lips curling into something that was not quite a smile. 

"Ah… so these are the warriors fate has sent to entertain me." His voice was smooth, soaked in mockery. "How unfortunate. I had hoped for something more." 

A single breath, a shift in his presence, and the air itself collapsed under his dominion. The weight of an ancient, insurmountable power pressed down upon them, thick like the stench of death. It stole the air from their lungs, forcing lesser men to their knees. 

But not them. 

Not today. 

Saaransh lifted his head, his dark eyes burning with defiance. A slow, deliberate step forward, and the suffocating pressure cracked like glass beneath his will. 

"No more." 

His voice was neither loud nor desperate, it was resolute, a decree of absolute certainty. 

"We have walked through fire and bled across battlefields for this moment. We have seen death and spat in its face. And now…" His grip on his blades tightened. "Your reign ends." 

A gust of wind raged as Ryu Jin exhaled, lightning crackling across his fingers. 

"You talk big for a rotting corpse," he sneered, his sword gleaming with electric fury. 

Kang Ha slammed his sword into the ground, flames erupting in a pillar around him. "The only 'entertainment' happening today is me watching your head roll." 

Baek Do twirled his dagger, his expression unreadable. "Let's see if a king's blood spills any different." 

Yun Seo stepped forward last, her breath a whisper that turned to frost. "Enough talk." 

For a moment, silence reigned. 

And then, Vorkhael laughed. 

It was not human. 

The sound crawled through the walls, through their bones, rattling reality itself. The palace trembled, as if the very foundation of the world shuddered under his amusement. 

"Oh… delightful." His fingers drummed against his throne, his smile widening. "Very well, little flames. Show me if you can burn." 

The Battle Begins 

Saaransh moved first, his swords carving through the air like streaks of fire and ice. Frostfang shimmered with biting cold, while Emberclaw roared with blistering heat. 

Vorkhael did not move. 

And yet

CRACK! 

An unseen force collided with Saaransh's charge, sending him skidding back. The floor beneath his feet shattered like glass, the sheer pressure of Vorkhael's power lashing out without so much as a gesture. 

A flicker of motion, Ryu Jin vanished in a bolt of lightning, reappearing above their foe, sword raised. A roar of wind and electricity tore through the throne room as he brought his blade down

Only for Vorkhael to catch it between two fingers. 

"Pathetic." 

A pulse of raw power exploded outward, hurling Ryu Jin away like a ragdoll. Kang Ha lunged in next, his flaming sword cutting an arc through the air

But his blade never connected. 

Vorkhael's gaze alone stopped the attack, freezing Ha-jun mid-strike. The flames flickered, trembled… and died. 

Baek Do was nowhere to be seen. A shadow flickered at Vorkhael's side

A dagger struck. 

Vorkhael didn't flinch. 

Instead, he turned, gripping Baek Do by the throat. "How adorable." With a flick of his wrist, he sent the assassin crashing into the stone pillars. 

Yun Seo frost spread across the battlefield, tendrils of ice racing toward Vorkhael's feet, but with a single step, he shattered it all. "A nice chill. But I prefer my wine warmer." 

Saaransh wiped blood from his lips, eyes blazing. "Damn it…!"

Vorkhael tilted his head. "Surely, this is not all you have?" 

Rage boiled within Saaransh's chest, but he forced it down. They needed to be smarter. Stronger. 

They needed to break him. 

With renewed fire, he surged forward once more, his allies rallying behind him. 

The world held its breath as the battle of legends began.