The critical moment has arrived.
For eons, Asclepius, master of the Pale Serpent, had been striving to reach this stage. He is the High Priest of Nastron, raised from birth to serve Lord Nyhogg, the eternal dragon. His loyalty, tempered by centuries, has never wavered; the Lich has sacrificed countless lives at his master's altar, delved into the darkest realities of love, and gazed into the abyss of magic.
Even as gods and men buried his city and slaughtered his followers, the Lich never lost hope. Asil is ancient, but his Master is eternal. Like a snake that sheds its skin, He will return and bring the gift of eternal life to all. Asclepius carried the torch of knowledge from generation to generation; kings rose and fell, but he remained. Even the Brotherhood of the Pale Serpent is merely the latest incarnation of Nastrom's priesthood. A cult that worships immortality itself, the Great Cause.
Now, as Asclepius flew over the burning city of Lyonesse, he knew that the time had come. The final step in completing a great cause.
These poor worshipers of disaster, fools bound by fate... He looked down upon them, like puppets unable to break free from their chains. He destroyed their bridges, burned their Fianna leader, killed countless others, and resurrected them with the gift of immortality. Yet they foolishly burned the sacred ground where Nastrom once stood and where the gods buried him.
Even Odin appears to spoil the scene, struggling to control the fire giant Surtur. Asclepius somewhat admired his determination to survive, but could not stand his selfishness. Life and immortality are gifts that should be shared with all; not hoarded for an elite few.
Dedication. This has always been the lich's motivation. Great love for all mortals, regardless of their origin. No matter what the sacrifice, his goal was to benefit the most people.
Far, far away from the city, he felt the essence of his dark master burning. The signal for the beginning of the final ceremony.
His new god granted him the highest honor. Start the Age of the Dead and end this cursed mortal era with the last spell.
His manuscripts, kept in Nastrom Cathedral, will take center stage. Asclepius would preside over the ceremony, giving up his own essence to accomplish this great work. His death was a small price to pay, as he sacrificed so many on the altar of knowledge.
In a way, he will finally achieve the immortality he was promised.
"Yes, the time has come!" the Lich successfully chanted, delivering his dark master's greatest incantation, "For the end of the age of men and gods...the age of the undead is about to begin!" One that will never end. Time! Behold our great works, gods and mortals, and tremble in awe!"
As he cast the spell, the runes and symbols painted beneath Leonis lit up. Leyli of Alkahurst
es, dispersed by numerous groups, forming a circle surrounding the entire city, instantly activated.
[Eternal Snake Ceremony] initiated.
His body was charred.
It had been burning from the moment his hand emerged from the pyre of the witches prepared for him by the Inquisitors. He didn't scream; he only cursed the men who killed his wife and destroyed the only place he could call home. His most bitter words, however, were spoken to King Siegfried, who watched him die in flames with a smile on his face. He only saw his illegitimate brother as a threat to his meager throne, and he was happy to see him reduced to ashes.
Medlot's inanimateness is fueled by pain, in many ways.
The Fire Lord Satyr gave him the chance to take revenge and complete Asclepius' curse on Avalon and the Medelot family. But disaster is a stern taskmaster, and he hopes that his warrior will never forget what he fought for. The fire that burned him also reminded him of the pyre day after day.
Important health! Important health!
However, even the fire pales in comparison to Walter's venom. It was as if rats were slowly and painfully eating away at his body. He could feel the poison seeping into his soul, an evil force dragging his mind into eternal darkness.
But now, none of that matters. McDraw's mission was over.
His footsteps echoed in Naströn's cathedral as an executioner walked toward the gallows. Lyons fell outside, and the ground trembled. The dark roots of Yggdrasil awaited him, fueled by the foul waters of life.
The death knight recognized the pulsing magic necklace that his old friend Asclepius had hidden in the corner, and he felt a twinge of regret at the sight. Nothing could change his resolve, though; the flames had burned away all doubt years ago.
Even Walter, the smartest boy Meldrew knew, couldn't stop him. The Death Knight wished him a long and happy life; their days at Castle Black were the happiest times of his life, and Medlo cherishes these memories. But this terrible universe will never let them live in peace.
It must disappear.
Medlot thought about all this as he looked at the roots. That's all. And this will always be the case.
"Burn it all!"
The Death Knight raises his flaming sword, ready to burn all creation.
"stop……"
The sound of her voice made him flinch.
Metro looked away from the roots of the tree and towards the Well of Life.
Her ethereal ghost floated on the water, watching him.
She was exactly as he remembered her, before her accident. A beautiful and compassionate apparition, a noble princess, beholds a mulatto squire and yet has the strength to love him.
"Dear..." Severo's ghost asked, her voice choked with grief. "Why?"
"You're not..." Medlot took a step back. He was so shocked that the fire that burned him was a little shaken. "You're gone. I saw you die. I saw you die twice. Even your soul..."
"Walter..." She struggled to speak in the same voice, the same voice. "Bring me... back... halfway... no time... to finish..."
"It's an illusion," Medelot insisted. If Tai could poison the undead, surely he could also play with their minds. Distract him when he is about to activate Ragnarok. "A cruel joke to torture me!"
But can he really accomplish the impossible? Bring a lost soul back? It seems crazy, but if anyone can do it, it's Walt. She seemed so real to him; she had the same mannerisms, the same energy, the same expression. It all seemed so real.
in spite of. Whether she's real or a cruel hallucination changes nothing.
"This changes nothing," Medelot said to himself, looking back at the source of all the pain. "This has to be done. For everyone's good."
He raised his claymore again, but Severo blocked his way, making him flinch.
"No..." she whispered, stretching out her arms. "No……"
"Get out of the way." The death knight asked, his voice choked.
Important health! Important health!
As he spoke, he felt Walter's poison eating away at his body from the inside; he only had a few minutes. He had to cut the roots now, but his hands wouldn't move.
"Why..." Severogg said in a panic. She didn't judge him, but she still seemed sad. "Why?"
"This is the only way we can be free," Medelot said. "Freedom from endless pain and suffering"
In a world where brothers kill each other, gods don't care about humans, and nothing matters, what is there to save? Everywhere Metro goes, he sees misery. Disaster, Esil, humanity, no one wins. Ragnarok leaves no winners, only survivors, who will repeat the same mistakes again and again.
“The world has been killing me since I was born,” Medrut admits. "Every time I care about someone or something, I get a fire."
"The world hates...you...so you...hate it too..."
Yes. "you have not?"
She shook her head.
Why? Why, after all they had been through? He didn't understand. He didn't want to understand.
"Get out of the way," Medlot ordered, mustering up his determination. Even though that was his real wife, his duty trumped his feelings. "Or I'll chop you off too."
She didn't move, "You have to... kill me first..."
"Why? Why do you want to protect this world? Why are you still holding on to it?"
"Because being with you is worth it."
Metro collapsed after hearing these words.
In an instant, the crimes he had committed, the crimes he had committed, the burden he had carried for decades suddenly became too much to bear. They crushed him like a great stone upon his shoulders, and brought him to his knees. Embers flickered in his empty eyes.
"Don't cry..." she said, her ethereal fingers touching him even as the flames burned. Her hands felt warm, but unlike Surt's fire, they eased the pain. "I'm here……"
How could a creature like him be loved by someone like her?
In a desperate moment, Medelot tried to cut her down, setting the roots on fire. But his hands did not obey him. Something stronger than hatred prevented him from killing this...this flawless creature. He felt like a demon, repulsed by the divine light.
Severo calmly placed his other hand on his sword and lowered it. The vicious artifact lost its luster, close to its roots but out of reach.
"Forgive me," Metro apologized, her warm hands wrapping around his shoulders. "forgive me……"
Medolot still hated the Nine Kingdoms, and he wanted to watch them burn for everything he had been through...but he couldn't bring himself to kill his wife because of it. She died twice before his eyes. He couldn't bear to watch her die again, nor could he bear to do it himself. He just can't do it.
He failed. So many sacrifices, so much blood... In the end, the Death Knight couldn't do it. Not at this price.
"It's okay..." Severo smiled, holding him close to him. "I will never give you up……"
Medlot didn't respond as his health was at zero, consumed by Walter's poison. His hesitation cost him his life.
The fire that burned Medelot died out, and his bones melted. As darkness enveloped his consciousness, the Death Knight felt the pain disappear, replaced by a feeling of joy, a peaceful oblivion. He allowed himself to die, his resolve shattered.
But Sevilog did not hold Metro in his arms, but suddenly retracted and looked down at him, the expression on his face changed from sadness to satisfaction. Her appearance had changed too; from the face he had loved with all his heart, to that of a dark elf with a malicious glint in her eyes.
"you are not……"
But it was too late. His body was destroyed by Walter's venom, his hateful flames were extinguished, and Medelot's soul returned to reincarnation. Only his armor and sword remained.
Laufey Seisinger's smile grew even brighter.
She won.
After all this time, she got what she wanted. Her rebellious slave, kneels before her.
But it wasn't his choice. Her Earthling - whose name she could barely remember - shot Walter in both legs with an arrow; severing the body in two parts at the knees. Yet, despite the pain and helplessness, the Necromancer still had the nerve to glare at Hel.
"I find this displeasing, my slave," the goddess said, walking towards the undead horror before her. She grabbed his head with both hands even as he tried to bite her like a snake. This foolish resistance frustrated her, but it only made her desire stronger.
"If you like it rough..." she mused, grabbing the ends of his jaw and tearing his body in two. Underneath this giant shell, she found the core she wanted.
Walter's body forms the core of this horrific structure.
With divine power, she took him out of his shell, like a baby from its mother's hand. He was just as she remembered him, defiant, hateful, and determined. Somehow, he still thought he had a chance to fight back.
What a pleasant feeling it was to feel his skin against her own.
"Shh..." he said, pulling him and holding her against his chest. "Enjoy it."
This was seen by her Earth Hound, a machine without a will.
Come to think of it, she doesn't need anyone else now. Once she reincarnates new souls, she ensures that none of them have a will of their own. Her slave is enough.
"The next world may be just us, my love," she told Walter, holding him in her arms even as the ground gave way. You and I are alone in a silent world. Or we can do something like liff and Th
asi
That way, repopulating the earth with our descendants. I know you disdain the behavior of love, but I will teach you the finer details. "
"Go to hell..." Walter hissed, unable to free himself. Without his magic and godlike powers, he is nothing more than a mortal. He was the only man she desired, but he was still no match for her.
"We all know it's impossible." Never. "you lose."
Things didn't go as smoothly as he had hoped, but they worked out in the end. Odin, that fool, was brave enough to disobey her orders and challenge Suter. Not that it could save anyone - she'd never seen a fire giant's king die before the entire Nine Kingdoms collapsed. But Medelot had entered the cathedral with a fatal wound. He would get history back on track and then be gone before he could haunt the next iteration.
Meanwhile, her Death Heroes work tirelessly to destroy any remaining undead. Their plague would not survive Ragnarok.
He can only tolerate one person.
"You're still thinking about them, aren't you?" he asked, stroking Walter's cheek. "You should think about me, honey. I will be your world. It's meant to be."
"I hate you," Walter replied, his voice hoarse with anger.
"Hate is not the opposite of love," he replied calmly. "This is indifference. I know what you see when you look at my father's face. Your true feelings show through. You hate me because deep down, you know you will always come back to my arms. No matter what you do resist."
How could it not be so? They, the twin guardians of the cycle, are bound together forever. This is the reward for her hard work for generations for her destiny. A sense of completeness, of a partner who completes her.
She will no longer feel alone.
"You are quite mistaken, Sister," a voice came from the church. "He didn't feel anything. I saw it in his heart."
He glanced at the cathedral and a succubus appeared. This annoying Laufey Seisinger hybrid. Her father Loki had always had poor taste.
"As much as I want to see you suffer, Walter," Laufey said to the Necromancer, pleased with his current state, "I hate it even more. I deceived Metro as you wished, so please Fulfill your oath to me and free me from this slavery.”
"You turn to him for help instead of your own family?" Help ponders. It does explain why the world hasn't collapsed yet, much to her dismay.
"Sister, we all know you don't care about words."
"However, I will fulfill this wish myself, my sister," he said, feeling cheerful today. Don't say she has no compassion. "Kill her, my hound."
Before Laufei could react, a black arrow pierced her chest, killing her ghost.
"In vain, my slave," she told her soulmate. "Killing Suter's champion won't change anything. I'm going to call my hounds to—"
Magic is in the air.
She can feel every dying soul in the Nine Realms, so she can guide them to the Nine Realms. Yet, despite all the carnage above, it's as if...as if the soul is still anchored in the human realm. Is this the witchcraft of her beloved?
"Yes," Walter whispered, interrupting her thoughts. "I understand now. I see your face."
She immediately focused her attention on her slave and smiled in response. Finally, as the world crumbles around them, he sees the light.
His hand moved to her cheek, cold yet warm.
"Your blood," Walter said adoringly. "You are the perfect ingredient for my great work."
Before Haier could ask him what he meant, his eyes changed.
"You are all fools." This is Walter's face, but the eyes belong to Nyhog, the eternal snake. That cold and hateful dragon tortured the nine kingdoms in endless reincarnations, and only he could survive. A selfish beast willing to commit any crime to escape death. "You, Metro, Gwenhilfal, Odin. You let your feelings get in the way of what you had to do, diverting you from your goals. Even on the edge of victory, you looked away."
What not to see? This place?
this place……
"No," he whispered. "The amount required..."
However, when she looked around, all she saw was further confirmation. This unholy tomb was built in the Alkahest deposits, enough to fuel an entire nation of alchemists. The bleed above provides all the necessary souls.
She immediately tried to teleport them back to her castle, but her divine magic failed.
By [Negative] Eternal Serpent Ritual].
Her Walter is turning the entire city into a [Necromancer Stone]!
Crimson crystal has surrounded Nastrom's cathedral, with the entrance and the entire building covered in a layer of magic stone. Crystal covers the hole in the ceiling, sealing off the buried city and spreading to the city above.
"I could never defeat you in a fight," Walter admitted, his tone calm and triumphant. "But I know what you think. Unless you believe that the stone has been destroyed, you will never dare to approach me; when you think you are victorious, you will spend too much time showing off your victory in front of me. , without noticing the stage I set.”
That cheeky one...he distracted her, using her emotions as bait to keep her from seeing his bear trap.
"We're all going to be trapped in there," Hull said, a little scared. "You and me, forever."
She can bear it.
"This shell is but a puppet of my will. My [Necromancer], my magic, and my ship of souls, are still intact."
"My hound broke it," Hale reminded him, caressing his cheek and reminding him that there was nothing he could do.
But as Walter grinned, suspicion crept into the goddess's mind.
She grabbed a fragment of stone from the ground and approached his body. Her Earth Hound stared at her, and for a moment she could see the glint of satisfaction behind his empty eyes as her face contorted with fear.
This shard gives off the same aura as the [Necromancer's Stone] - it even includes the soul trapped within the crystal to make it more believable - but it has no real power. This is just an illusion.
"Fake," he realized with horror. "Counterfeit".
"You are old, powerful, and ancient...but what about me?"
Walter's lips were close to Hale's, and when they met, his face twisted into the look of a greedy undead.
"I am forever."
With their final kiss, Walter's body turned to ash, leaving Hale screaming in rage as her body turned into gemstones.
Odin is coming.
Gwen watched the sky as she fought alongside her knights, carving a path between pagans and monsters. The Father of the Gods has since fought against the satyrs, and although his body burns and his Valkyries drop like flies, he manages to slowly push disaster back into his realm of fire.
Why? Why was he here now, after Hale had warned him not to interfere? Why risk everything to fight a battle he knew he was destined to lose?
A warm, godlike voice sounded in her head.
"He listens."
She once asked Odin if he would go to Valhalla if he died. He seemed determined to find out.
Seeing the supreme god fighting on their side, her soldiers took courage and fought off the monsters that had taken over the city's streets. Gwen couldn't believe they might win.
However, while she fights for all living things, her heart longs to find her brothers and sisters. Reports from the scouts say they saw them engaging Fianna and Walter's dastardly lieutenants to her north.
Gwenhwyvar quickened her pace, carving a bloody path, her holy sword cutting through flesh like butter. No technique, no verbal exchange; just a whirlwind of blood and savagery. Her instincts over the years have guided her toward her goal, even as fewer knights follow her. Until she was alone.
When she arrived at the battlefield, what she saw was a bloody battle.
Blood ran down to her ankles, and burning bodies were everywhere; they were piled in morbid candles. Fianna, monsters, undead, humans...their bodies were cut into pieces, and she could hardly recognize any of them. However, she soon noticed some survivors.
Arthur, covered in blood, was busy fighting Vindemar's Black Roots while Morgan bombarded them with fire spells. Dullahan engages in a swordfight with Gwen's brother, wielding a shining katana capable of withstanding the attacks of the King's Sword. Wulong disappeared, and the headless body of the fourth dead hero drowned in his own blood.
It seems that the Dullahan has decided not to sink easily. With his mace still smacking the Death Hero Swordsman across the face, Hagen stole his sacred weapon. While he does not have access to its full power due to not being an Earthling, its indestructible nature allows Hagen to withstand attacks from the King's Sword. However, fighting two opponents proved too difficult for him, with Dullahan struggling to hold Arthur back while Morgan bombarded them with spells, ignoring friendly fire. Arthur's immunity protected him, but the ruthlessness of the tactic sickened Gwen.
The two remaining Death Heroes' eyes widened in shock as they noticed their brother, and Hagen used the brief opportunity to force Arthur back. Gwenhyfhar said nothing as she rushed forward, sword raised towards her siblings.
"Betrayal! The mad prince yelled at his sister, completely losing his mind. He rushed towards her like a mad beast, raising the sword of the king. "Betrayal!"
Hagen walked down the road, their swords clashing together. "I want the prince to have something to do." Dulahan began to give the princess stern orders. "Kill that mage."
It sickened Gwenhwyvar to fight alongside this despicable criminal, but necessity had no law.
Morni's moment of surprise passed, and she answered violently. She fired a volley of light arrows at her sister, and Gwen jumped aside to avoid them. "Morgan, put down your weapons!" the princess begged. "I do not want to hurt you!"
"Then kill him for me!" Morgan hissed, and Hagen managed to push Arthur back, as he now didn't have to worry about artillery support.
"If we lose, the world is over!"
"I don't care," Morgan hissed. "You don't know... what it's like to live in your and Arthur's shadow forever."
"You hate me so much for this, that you would rather watch the world burn down than fight alongside me?" Gwen asked sadly. Her half-sister fired a powerful spear-sized icicle at her, which the princess blocked with her sword. She channels divine energy through it, her [Paladin] light drowning out Hel's corrupting influence. "I never hated Arthur. Envy him, yes, but he was always my brother. How could you let Hale do this to him, Morgan? Your own family—"
"We're not family!" Morgan yelled, making her sister flinch. "You always have everything, and I...I have to climb up just to eat your scraps!" He gave me a chance to touch the light, and I took it. "
Gwenhwyvar paused, shoulders slumped sadly. "Is the kindness I see in you just an illusion?"
Her sister gave her a look of utter hatred.
"Enhance Supe
fla
e!”
Morni clasped her hands together, and the street suddenly burst into flames.
"If that's what you think," Gwen said, her hand tightening on her sword angrily. "Then we won't talk."
The Amulet of Avalon protected her from the spell, as it had always done.
When the Princess of Avalon emerged from the rubble unscathed, Morgane's eyes widened in shock. Even with Hale's powers, she's not Walter Tye. Before her half-sister could react, Gwen blocked the gap and aimed for her face.
Blow!
A second later, Morgan fell to the ground, body and head separated forever.
This scene made Gwen Sifhar sad for a second, but her heart turned to ice.
The sister she loved existed only in her mind.
She turned to see her brother and Hagen dueling, Dullahan holding his ground but unable to really find a breakthrough. Arthur was once a powerful swordsman, even though he relied on his own invulnerability, but his new form makes him ten times more powerful.
Still, seeing his sister come to help save his enemies seemed to reignite his madness.
"I've been rehearsing for this moment for years," Gwen admitted, readying her sword for the final blow. "But I never thought we'd actually go to war, Arthur."
Without saying a word, she followed Hagen; their instincts as warriors, honed in countless battles, allowed them to predict each other's moves.
Gwen nimbly dodged her brother's frantic swing; her sword grazed his, blocking King Arthur's, while Hagen pinned Arthur with her. Dullahan's final blow sent the King's Sword flying over their heads, all in a matter of seconds. The sacred sword ends its journey on a pile of corpses, a horrific sight amidst the sights of Hell itself.
Once upon a time, it was impossible for Gwen to hurt her brother. But as a death hero, Gwen is no different from the undead who are not bound by fate. Her sword cut through Arthur's arm like butter and his hand fell to the ground.
The shock seemed to snap Arthur out of his trance for a second, and Hagen took advantage of the opportunity. He struck the mad prince hard on the chest, knocking him on his back.
Arthur fell in a pool of blood, disarmed and surrendered. The Dullahan took a step forward, preparing to deliver the killing blow.
"Stop!" Gwen ordered, blocking Hagen's path with her sword to prevent him from killing her brother.
"He's gone, fool," Dullahan said. "He's never coming back."
"Even so, I won't let you hurt him."
Hagen shrugged, but relented. Gwenhwyvar turned to Arthur and looked into his eyes, hoping to find some trace of her brother. A lingering spark of humanity that she could bring back to the front lines.
Then she felt Hagen move behind her and he raised his weapon.
Gwen turned quickly and impaled Dullahan with her sword, just as he had done to her.
In the end, it all comes down to speed. Hagen was wounded and slowed by the constant fighting, his movements impaired by pain. And Gwe
hyfa
It remains relatively fresh and agile.
"We are allies," she said gruffly. Her sword pierced Dullahan's chest, and Dullahan's stolen sword also pierced her left shoulder, causing blood to spurt out. Just a few inches and the bad guys would behead her.
"We did," Hagen taunted her, showing no regrets even on his final brink of death. "I am a simple man, Your Highness. When I see an opportunity, I take it."
"Why?" Gwen asked. "Why do you do such a pointless thing?"
"As usual," replied the fugitive, strangely pleased with himself. "loyalty".
With these words, Dullahan's armor turned to dust and his evil spirit was banished from the realm of humanity. His stolen sword fell to the ground, buried in a gallon of blood.
Loyalty? To Walter Tye? How that mad wizard could inspire such feelings in the heart of such an evil man as Hagen was beyond Gwen Siffa's comprehension. She really doesn't understand these people.
Maybe that's why they can never coexist.
However, despite this setback, they fought off the Scourge and Arthur survived. Maybe she can find a way to cleanse the hell out of them both
Gwen's vision suddenly turned white, and a cold feeling filled her chest. Arthur let out a simultaneous wail of agony, and his sister struggled to her feet.
help……
Is he dying?
No. Yes. not completely. Something drained Gwen's life, a dark force sucked her soul away while divine energy gave her strength.
Was it Walter?
A terrible howl filled the sky, thousands of souls screaming in unison. Gwen watched in amazement as swarms of ghosts burst into the sky. The souls of those who died in the conflict were bound by witchcraft into the shape of ghosts. Their numbers dimmed even the flames and cracks.
They only announced further destruction, as the giants and houses suddenly turned crimson and a strange crystal grew over them.
Red stone covered everything, everywhere Gwen looked. The torrent of crystals engulfed the entire city with no possibility of escape; the waves spread like a plague from Nastrang to Lyonesse above.
"That's why you can never beat me."
All this time... Gwen thought as she looked at her bleeding brother, and a terrible consciousness began to emerge. How Walter Tye used her family love and ideals to harness her powers and then lure her into a snake's den.
“If you allow your personal feelings and principles to interfere with the greater good, you have failed.”
"Betrayal..." Arthur hissed.
This has always been a trap.
She touched the Amulet of Avalon, which had served her so long, in an attempt to teleport herself and her brother. However, just like her death at the hands of Meldru, the device refused to activate.
[Amulet of Avalon [Disabled] Eternal Serpent Ritual].
This is the end.
"Gwen..."
She glanced at her brother, his eyes shining with sanity.
"It's okay, Arthur," she said, dropping the weapon and holding him in her arms. "I'm here."
"Gwen..."
"I'm sorry, I'm not a good sister."
He placed his last hand on her and closed his eyes calmly, the red crystal covering their bodies. Gwen was unconscious, her arms wrapped tightly around her brother.
That moment was frozen in eternity.
A black stone that radiates darkness.
Anne looked at the contents of the box, shocked and confused, until her attention was drawn to Leonis.
She could feel the magic from miles away.
Red stone erupts from below and spreads across Lyonesse. This strange substance, which she recognized as purified alkali stone, was scattered on buildings, monsters, walls, everything unfortunate in the city. Since the battle took place there, almost all the warriors took part.
As this strange influence expands, the souls of the dead swirl in the typhoon over the city, a dance of the dead. Blood flowed from the countryside and corpses were drained of their contents, fueling a magical show worthy of the Dark God. Blood, soul, and Alkavist merged, and the red stone turned black.
One by one the cracks closed. The biggest one, the one that blots out the sun, forces Calamity Su with its final roar
t
Back to his hellish kingdom. Odin, the father of the gods, is nowhere to be seen, either dead or running away. Snow and frost extinguished the flames, and the winter winds blew away the ashes and smoke.
Half an hour later, the ceremony finally ended, and the whole world seemed to fall into silence. Lenis became a crystallized gem, an ebony stone of terrifying beauty.
Anne watched it from afar, alone in the darkness.
"I don't understand," the witch said, her voice choked. "I do not understand."
"Isn't it obvious?"
The sound coming from the stone sounded like honey, but beneath it, was poison.
"I won."
