Lyon’s throne room pulsed with an unshakable sense of readiness, a storm gathering before the heavens themselves. He sat on his throne, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation.
Ian approached first, bowing with a confident grin. "Looks like the ti is nigh," he said. "Boss, will you be leading the war?"
Lyon smirked, leaning slightly forward. "Of course."
"Then this war is as good as won already," chid Kesya, appearing from the shadows with her usual playful grin.
Liu stepped forward, his deanor as disciplined as ever. "I will exert everything I have, including the mastery of the blade you taught , Master."
"This war will mark the dawn of a new era," added Graham, his voice deep and resolute.
Lyon chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "Get married after this war, Graham."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room, but Graham’s usual stoicism cracked as a faint blush crept over his cheeks. The sight made even Ian whistle in amusent.
Assid appeared next, his presence precise as always. "Everything is prepared, as expected," he said with a slight bow.
Lyon’s smile faded briefly as his eyes turned serious. "This war won’t end in a single day."
"Teacher is still concentrating," said Harvestasya, gracefully landing from the air. She joined the gathering near the staircase, her eyes brimming with determination.
"It seems we are all ready," ca Cecile’s voice. She ascended the steps and stood beside Lyon, her figure commanding respect. Her battle armor, tight-fitting and adorned with intricate runes, glowed faintly. It was clearly a regalia of the highest caliber, and in her hand, she held a trident. Its three blades pulsed with swirling fire, water, and wind, a symbol of elental mastery.
Lyon tilted his head, eyeing her with a mix of amusent and admiration. "Did you wear your third regalia for this?"
"Absolutely," she replied with a confident nod.
"Command well, War Goddess," said a calm voice that cut through the room like a blade. Space itself seed to ripple as Selena stepped through, her form appearing beside Lyon’s throne. She wore a shimring cloak that lded seamlessly into her surroundings, a regalia of stealth and precision. Yet it was the pair of swords at her sides that drew every eye. Their edges were so sharp that the air around them blurred, and occasionally, the tips seed to pierce through space itself, leaving faint, montary tears in their wake.
Selena’s gaze was steady as she addressed Cecile. "You lead us to battle, and I will ensure the enemy falls before your feet."
Lyon’s smirk returned as he looked at the group assembled before him. These were no ordinary warriors—they were forces of nature, legends in their own right. "It’s ti," he said, standing up. His red and black battle robe billowed slightly as he moved, his emperor’s cape flowing behind him. "Let’s remind the heavens why we are the ones they fear."
Cecile twirled her trident with a grin. "Let the War Goddess earn her title once more."
Selena’s swords shimred ominously. "And the Sword Empress will ensure they regret their defiance."
The group shared a determined glance, and then Lyon stepped forward, leading them into what promised to be a war that would reshape the very fabric of the heavens.
The Empyrean began to tremble, the very foundation of its existence resonating with an overwhelming power. In the midst of this, Rakumtatak, seated in the bathroom and preoccupied with personal matters, felt the shake beneath him.
"Huh?" he muttered, looking around in mild confusion. "This isn’t my stomach acting up... what’s going on?"
Far away, Minx leaned back with a grin that stretched across her face. Her fiery hair seed to flicker in rhythm with the energy pulsing through the air. "Oh, that brat’s up to sothing," she chuckled. Her eyes caught the crimson hue now blanketing the skies. "The red hue... HA! Incredible! HAHAHA!"
Enya stood at the edge of her domain, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Don’t tell ... Summoning Ruby Stone?" Her voice carried both awe and trepidation.
Rui crossed her arms, her lips curling into a grin. "They’ll expect us," he said, the edge of a challenge in her tone. "But not the entire Empyrean!"
Ma burst into laughter, his voice echoing like thunder. "That’s right! Not even Paradise will see this coming!"
In the heart of the Empyrean, Simak stood in silent observation, his figure composed yet brimming with anticipation. "It has begun," he said softly, his voice filled with conviction.
Aleysius, Lyon’s father, stood beside him, his smirk wide and proud. "Well, the boy did say this was no ordinary land," he said with a chuckle, his golden eyes glinting. "But I never thought it would have a soul of its own!"
The red light intensified, washing over the entire empire. It shimred with a pulsating rhythm, enveloping the Empyrean until its vastness compressed into a single point. The dot of crimson energy hovered for a heartbeat before shooting upward, piercing the skies like a flaming spear.
Far away, in the realm of Yggdrasil, the World Tree stirred. Its ancient branches groaned and swayed as its leaves shimred with an erald glow. A deep, resonating voice echoed from its roots.
"Finish them, Torga!" it commanded, its words rippling through the cosmos like a call to arms.
The skies above Yggdrasil darkened, and the mighty guardian Torga, a colossal beast with scales of glimring obsidian, awakened. Its roar shook the heavens, signaling that Lyon’s war was about to be t with fierce resistance, and the battle for the realms had begun.
Eden, the palace of Paradise, glimred with its usual pristine serenity. Golden rays filtered through immaculate crystal windows, and a soft hum of celestial harmony filled the air. Yet beneath the surface, tension roiled. The seraphs stood in stoic formation, but unease hung heavy, palpable in every breath.
Suddenly, the fragile peace was broken.
A sound—sharp, piercing, unnatural—shattered through the halls. It was glass. No, sothing more profound. A resonance that reverberated to the very core of their beings.
"All-Father?" one seraph called out, his voice hesitant.
Another stepped forward, clutching his chest as if the sound itself had struck him. "All-Father...?" he echoed, uncertain.
The still air grew heavy, suffocating, and then—
"THEY ARE COMING!"
The All-Father’s thunderous voice roared through the heavens, shaking the grand palace to its foundation. It was a cry unlike any they had ever heard before—a mixture of rage, urgency, and sothing far more unnerving: fear.
Even the ancient being beneath Eden, the Old One, stirred, its slumber disrupted by the sheer force of the All-Father’s bellow.
The seraphs exchanged alard glances. Never had their leader shown such vulnerability. This was not the unshakable All-Father they knew, the one who commanded with unyielding authority. This was sothing else entirely—a man on the precipice of desperation.
The echo of his words lingered in the air, deafening and ominous. Then, as quickly as the eruption ca, silence fell over Eden. A silence so profound it felt as if the universe itself held its breath.
No one dared to speak. No one dared to move.
A bolt of red light tore through the tranquil skies of Paradise, piercing the heavens as if announcing its dominion. It surged upward, slicing through the immaculate clouds before vanishing beyond sight. The seraphs, frozen in disbelief, watched in stunned silence.
"Wh-what... was that?" Aella stamred, her voice trembling as her gaze remained fixed on the dissipating trail. "Was that... a Summoning Ruby Stone?"
The All-Father raised his head, his eyes narrowing at the now darkened sky. He blinked once, and the perpetual radiance of Paradise was extinguished. The celestial realm had been cast into a night it had never known.
The seraphs felt a chill creep down their spines. Darkness in Paradise was unthinkable, unprecedented.
"This signature move..." the All-Father growled, his fists clenching tightly. "It’s him."
He prepared to ascend, his aura surging to investigate, but his motion halted as the first raindrops touched his skin. They were not of water, but of shadow.
"Black feathers?" one seraph whispered in horror, catching a delicate fragnt between trembling fingers. "What is this?"
To the All-Father, it was all too clear. His expression darkened further, dread etched into his features.
A gust of wind roared from the heavens, scattering the black feathers like an on. Slowly, the clouds began to part, revealing a colossal silhouette descending through the murky ether. The air grew heavier with every passing mont as the great structure descended.
The seraphs gasped in unison, their voices caught in their throats.
"It’s... impossible," Aella muttered. Her voice cracked under the weight of disbelief. "He summoned an entire empire?!"
The All-Father exhaled deeply, steadying himself as his piercing gaze fixed on the descending monolith. The colossal empire cast its shadow over all of Paradise, its majestic form dwarfing the splendor of Eden itself.
"Be careful, everyone," the All-Father warned, his voice taut with unease. "That is no ordinary mortal. That man was once the pinnacle of the cultivation world. Two entire pantheons banded together to erase his presence from existence—and it still took his own legacy to seal him away." His hand trembled as his nails dug into his palm. "And now... we lack both."
Aella’s breath hitched as her vision sharpened, locking onto the figure at the forefront of the empire. She felt her heart pound as she recognized him.
He sat atop a grand throne of obsidian and crimson, his figure exuding an undeniable dominance. Slowly, Lyon ’Zodiac’ Torga stirred from his seat, his once playful deanor replaced with sothing far more chilling. His sharp eyes, cold and resolute, swept over Paradise like a conqueror surveying his prey. He did not need to release his aura—his very presence demanded reverence.
Even the seraphs who had fought countless battles in their immortal lifetis felt an overwhelming weight. His na had been uttered in hushed whispers within etings of the divine. He was not rely a man; he was a legend reborn.
Without a word, Lyon stood, his gaze locking onto the All-Father. Harvestasya, standing near the base of his throne, gave a slight bow before tapping her staff against the ground. The sound resounded and Lyon was gone.
The All-Father’s instincts scread a warning. He turned sharply to his right, but it was too late.
CRACK!
The impact was thunderous. Lyon’s fist struck the All-Father with the force of a divine calamity. The blow sent the ruler of Paradise hurtling to the ground, his form carving a deep crater into the celestial gardens below. The very foundation of Paradise quaked as the seraphs stared in shock, their morale shattering like glass.
Lyon remained midair, his black golden cape fluttering behind him. His sharp gaze swept over the stunned ranks of seraphs, an unspoken declaration in his presence alone.
The man who once made even the heavens bow had returned.
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