"How did we get here?" Aeron muttered, his voice echoing in the massive, dimly lit chamber.
"Demon Art: Hell's Imprisonment."
Suddenly, they were each locked in individual cages—pitch-black steel bars with strange, glowing chants inscribed above them. The aura was thick, oppressive, almost suffocating.
Arcane narrowed his eyes. "So… he's the one Lynx warned me about"
From atop his throne, Dareth sat like a king of ruin.
"How are preparations for the destruction of Everdawn?" he asked, his voice calm, almost casual.
"We're ready to attack by tomorrow, sire," one of his subordinates replied.
Zorayel, despite the pain, managed to raise his voice. "Davi…"
Dareth's smile vanished. He stood and stepped down from his throne, eyes burning with hatred.
"I don't go by that name anymore." His voice was cold steel.
He leaned in close to Zorayel's cage, venom dripping from every word. "Don't you ever dare call me that again." A pause. "Besides… you won't live long enough to say it again."
Aeron clenched the bars of his cage. "Was it you? Were you the one who murdered those villagers in the forest?"
Dareth turned to him, insulted by the very sound of Aeron's voice. "How dare a despicable insect like you speak to me?"
Aeron, though shaken, held his ground. "There are no insects here… except you."
Even though his hands trembled slightly, he stared Dareth down, desperate to get answers—anything that could help.
With a flick of Dareth's fingers, Aeron's cage shattered.
Dareth stepped toward him. Zorayel screamed, "Stop! Leave him alone!"
Dareth ignored him. Standing face-to-face with Aeron, he raised his fist. Aeron braced himself and tried to block it.
But he couldn't.
The force of Dareth's punch slammed into him like a cannon, launching him across the room. Aeron crashed into the stone wall—bricks cracked, dust burst into the air, and everything shook.
"Get him," Dareth ordered.
Two of his men rushed forward.
But when they reached the crash site… Aeron was gone.
Dareth stepped forward, his expression darkening. He extended his senses, trying to trace Aeron's mana—but found nothing.
"He's... vanished?" Dareth's eyes narrowed.
Aeron didn't had any mana heart… that's why he couldn't trace him
His voice thundered across the chamber: "Prepare everything. We attack Everdawn—now."
"But sire—"
The man didn't get to finish.
Two summoning circles flared on either side of him. Massive blades—one descending from above, the other rising from below—sliced him into three gruesome pieces.
The silence that followed was horrifying.
"We'll prepare immediately!" another man shouted, trembling.
Dareth turned and walked away with his men, leaving the captives alone—Zorayel, Allesio, Arcane, and the Pillars of MAA—all still trapped in their unbreakable cages.
Zorayel looked around. "What happened to Aeron?"
"This cage is blocking my foresight," Arceal said, straining his glowing eyes. "I can't see anything."
"Did he say… 'Demon Art'?" Orion asked.
Miren frowned. "That's not possible. Humans can't use Demon Art. It's beyond them."
"This damned cage!" Rahzei growled, striking the bars with all his strength—but it didn't even leave a scratch.
Allesio turned his gaze to Arcane. His eyes asked a silent question.
Arcane shook his head. "This magic is different. I can't undo it…" He paused, frowning. "But more importantly—what happened to Aeron?"
A heavy silence filled the room.
"What is Dareth planning to do to Everdawn?" Zorayel whispered, his fists tightening around the bars.
The next day, at dawn…
Birds scattered across the sky in a chaotic rush, their wings slicing through the morning haze. The cries of animals echoed from the forest, sharp and restless, as if nature itself sensed something was wrong.
Inside the Everdawn Town Hall, in the quiet of the Town Chief's chamber…
The old chief stood by the tall window, his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes were fixed on the ominous sky, where heavy clouds loomed and the air grew thick with tension.
A slow breath escaped his lips.
"It feels like a storm is coming…" he muttered, but his voice wasn't just about the weather.
There was fear in his tone—deep down, he knew.
This was no ordinary storm. It's a storm of war and cry.
At Zorayel's Master's House…
Master Eldric (Zorayel's master) sat quietly on a cushion, a warm cup of tea in his hands. The house was still, peaceful—until the silence was shattered.
From thin air, Dareth appeared.
"I'm home, Father," he said with a bitter smile.
Eldric didn't even flinch. "I no longer have a son."
"I return after all these years… and this is how you greet me?" Dareth's tone was calm, but the rage simmered just beneath.
"Like I said," Eldric replied coldly, "my son died many years ago."
"Then at least have the courtesy to greet the phantom standing before you," Dareth said, stepping forward.
"What do you want?" Eldric asked.
"Won't you offer your guest a seat, Father?" Dareth's voice dripped with sarcasm.
With a flick of his hand, Eldric summoned a cushion from the next room.
Dareth sat down slowly, his eyes never leaving his father's.
Eldric conjured a cup of tea in front of him.
"You know I don't drink tea," Dareth muttered.
The tea in the cup instantly transformed into milk.
Dareth took a sip.
"The most dangerous criminal in the world still drinks milk," Eldric remarked. It was meant to be a joke—but there was no warmth, no humor in his voice.
"You always told me to eat healthy," Dareth replied.
"Did I ever tell you to slaughter innocent people?" Eldric snapped.
Dareth's jaw clenched. "Did you ever pay attention to me?" he shot back.
"After Mom died, you left me alone. I cried myself to sleep night after night, but you were never there. You buried yourself in your work for this town—while your only son withered in silence."
His voice shook now, not from anger, but pain.
"In every parent meeting… prize ceremony… sports festival… the other children had someone cheering for them. I had empty space."
"I waited. Every time. And every time, I returned home to a house without a father."
Eldric looked down, silent.
"You want to know what shaped me? You did. I remember every word you ever said to me, because you said so few."
Dareth stood slowly. His eyes no longer held rage—only heartbreak.
"I'm going to burn this town to the ground," he declared. "I'll make it feel what I felt. I'll take from it what it took from me. The father that abandoned his child for the sake of this town."
"Davi!" Eldric finally shouted.
"I no longer go by that name," Dareth said without looking back.
"This will be the last time you ever see me... Father."
"Demon Art: Hell's Execution."
From the depths of Dareth's mana, a surge of power erupted. The entire house shattered into rubble, blasted open as if by a great storm. The floor beneath Eldric glowed a fiery red—molten and cracked like the surface of a dying world.
A massive, glowing ring appeared beneath Eldric's feet. Shadows twisted and rose into the forms of dark entities, surrounding the circle. Each one carried a long, jagged spear, aimed inward.
At a distance, a throne emerged—dark, grand, and twisted in shape. Dareth walked calmly toward it and took his seat. As soon as he sat down, an identical spear materialized in his hand.
"Any final words, Father?" Dareth asked coldly.
Eldric stood, defiant despite the heat and pressure around him. "Don't harm the town," he said. His voice trembled, not from fear, but from something deeper—regret.
"This town separated me from you. It stole my mother. And now, I'll destroy it. I'll end your suffering. I'll end mine," Dareth replied, his voice void of empathy.
"Your mother died from illness… they did everything they could. No one took her from you," Eldric said, his tone heavy with sorrow.
But Dareth didn't listen.
He raised the spear and slammed it into the molten ground.
The dark entities lunged forward, their spears poised like arrows.
"Secret Art: Blessing Shield!"
Eldric summoned a radiant barrier just in time. A dome of golden light enveloped him, halting the first wave of strikes. Sparks flew. The heat was unbearable.
"That won't save you," Dareth said, eyes gleaming crimson.
"And don't bother with teleportation—it won't work within this circle."
The shadows circled again. One by one, their strikes grew fiercer, faster, until—
CRACK.
The barrier shattered.
A final rain of spears pierced Eldric from all sides. He gasped, falling to the scorched floor.
"How… can you… use Demon Art…?" Eldric whispered, blood pooling beneath him.
"Because I have no heart," Dareth answered. "I gave mine to a demon. In return, I received his."
Eldric's eyes widened.
"What… have you done…?" he breathed.
"This," Dareth said, staring down at him, "is what you made me."
As Eldric lay there, fading away, his entire life flickered through his mind—
But not the victories… not the spells… not the town he protected…
Only the moments he had failed to be a father.
The weight of it crushed him harder than any spell ever could.