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The door clicked softly behind Kael as he entered his room, his gaze immediately drawn to a black rectangular box placed by the entrance.
Crafted from the bark of Cinderscorch Oak, a rare tree native to the central continent that was abundant in the [Forest] as it required high mana concentration to grow, the box looked as though it had been charred beyond repair, its surface cracked and weathered.
Yet, it was a deceiving appearance. The wood of the Cinderscorch Oak could never catch fire, its resistance to flames was its most iconic property. This was simply its natural state.
Kael was familiar with the material. Cinderscorch Oak was often used to store precious or dangerous items, as it protected its contents from both fire and external influence, its durability was greater than normal materials.
He reached out and with a simple gesture, the lid of the box lifted into the air, hovering gently before settling a few centimeters away.
To an untrained observer, this would seem like an impressive display of telekinesis, a rank four spell known to most mages and aura users. However, the distinct lack of mana in the air would leave even seasoned warriors puzzled.
The question wasn't whether Kael had mana; it was how he could manipulate objects so effortlessly, and hide his power from even the most trained senses.
Yselda, coming from a species with sensitivity to mana that was incomparable to humans, had already questioned this more than once previously.
Kael recongnizing her origin was one thing, however being unable to trust her strongest sense had made her uncomfortable.
Inside the box lay a long, pristine white horn, its smooth surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. It was roughly 25 centimeters in length, delicate yet unmistakably powerful. This horn was no ordinary object, but a part of a divine being, a true dragon's horn.
Most materials that originate from dragons were incredibly large by human standards. That is because dragons mainly died in their natural form, a magnificent, sizeable beast of pure power.
However on rare occasions, there were dragons that died while transformed into other forms, most commonly humanoid figures with distinct dragonic features like horns and a tail. The materials harvested from such dragons did not lose their value, their form was simply more condensed, the essence remained the same.
During the previous meeting, when the plan to confront the white devil had been formed, Kael had specifically requested the horn be brought to his room. And as per his instructions, a team of elite fighters was assembling outside the estate walls, ready for whatever came next.
Kael wasn't one to offer himself up for sacrifice; he had no intention of risking his life for the sake of others. The only reason he had excluded lower-ranked warriors and mages from the mission was simple. Without the strength to even delay the monster, they would be more of a hindrance than a help.
His eyes locked onto the horn again, his fingers hovering near it. With another slow gesture, he lifted it from its resting place. The horn obeyed, rising gently towards him, until it was in his grasp.
He walked across the room, the horn still held delicately in his right hand, and moved towards the center. Kael took a seat on the couch, settling with his legs crossed as he set the horn before him.
For a few moments, he closed his eyes, his expression unreadable, as he began to focus. Slowly, white flakes began to materialize at the base of the horn, disintegrating into the air like ash, leaving a barely visible strand of light behind.
These strands flowed, ever so slowly, towards the middle of his torso, seemingly passing through his black robes.
"Nothing lasts forever," Kael muttered, his voice distant, almost contemplative "not even the divine."
As the minutes continued to pass, the horn slowly shrank. It was a subtle change, but undeniable; a reduction of at least 10 centimeters. The horn had now lost almost half of its original length.
He opened his eyes and folded his right sleeve back, revealing his loose malnurished skin.
The red cracks that extended all the way to his wrist, barely covered by his clothes, were nowhere to be seen.
He pushed his sleeve further back, slightly above his elbow, and revealed the traces of the fissures. A satisfactory smile showed.
"That's the limit." he spoke to himself.
Kael's gaze flickered upward. The faint smile played across his lips, though it didn't reach his eyes. "It's almost time. Will you be escorting me?" he asked softly, his voice not expecting an answer.
Without waiting for a response, Kael rose from his seat, his movements fluid and deliberate, and made his way to the door.
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The sky was was clear and the sun illuminated the entire landscape clearly. A small, gentle breeze blew through the empty streets.
Some people were hiding in their house, others inside their basement and a select few used their connections to take shelter in the fortress.
Outside the estate, near the city's outer walls, fifty warriors and mages stood in perfect formation, their figures unwavering, every eye focused on the approaching battle. These fifty individuals were the finest the Dawnblade family had to offer, an elite force of both combatants and spellcasters. None among them was weak, and yet, the weight of past losses still lingered in their minds.
Although they stood ready, a certain hesitation hung in the air. The scars from last year's battle still haunted them, the memories of their fallen comrades fresh in their minds.
No one had forgotten the devastation the white devil had wrought upon their ranks.
Their patriarch, their elders, their friends. Many had given their lives just to push the creature back, but the cost had been unbearable.
A half-hour had passed since the meeting, and according to Kael's prediction the white devil's appearacne was imminent.
If the information was accurate, it would soon break the final seal of the forest, and the monstrocity would stand before them once more.
The seals had been created to contain the [Cycle]. They blocked not only the flow of mana but also any information from within the barrier. There would be no warning, no sound of the middle or inner barriers collapsing. When the seal broke, it would be an unmistakable signal: the disaster had begun, and they would have little time to act.
Still, the Dawnblade family had faced countless dangers in the past, and their preparations had been thorough. Only the unexpected —a force like the white devil— could expose any flaw in their defense.
Liora had also walked from the entrance of the estate, her gaze sweeping across the gathered warriors. She recognized each one, knew their families, their histories. Some of them were like siblings to her, and a part of her wondered if she would be sending them to their deaths.
Kael had promised there would be no casualties —his plan, after all, had accounted for everything. But after the carnage of the previous battle, such promises felt like hollow, empty words.
Liora's eyes moved toward the pillars of the family, the surviving elders. Their numbers had dwindled after the last fight, many having given their lives to protect the Dawnblades. And the loss of her husband still weighed heavily on her heart.
Her thoughts swirled with doubt, anxiety gnawing at the edges of her mind. But she couldn't afford to show it —not now, not in front of her family and warriors. As the matriarch, she was the symbol of strength and resolve. She had to embody that role, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
Vek stood at the forefront of the group, his imposing presence impossible to ignore. His massive form was draped in heavy armor, a commanding cape bearing the Dawnblade crest flowing behind him.
Though his strength was not as great as the former patriarch's and he was still mortal, Vek had reached the pinnacle of mortal strength; a rank 6 aura user.
To reach rank 6 in either aura manipulation or magic was to stand at the zenith of mortal power. A rank 6 grandmaster or a 6-circle mage could bend the battlefield to their will, a force of destruction and fear.
Liora smiled slightly as she watched Vek. She had known him since childhood, and his presence put her at ease.
The Dawnblade soldiers stood with composed expressions, and although worried, their eyes betrayed their bloodlust, the anticipation of battle burning in their gazes.
Vek stood tall, his presence commanding attention. A golden glow began emanating from his body, casting a brilliant light across the gathered warriors.
His voice, strong and unwavering, cut through the heavy atmosphere as he turned to face his soldiers.
"Soldiers of the Dawnblade," he began, his words deliberate and powerful. "Today, we stand once more against a monster that has already taken too much from us. It is the same creature that shattered our lives, took our fathers, our brothers, our friends —our very hearts. It is the one that claimed the life of our patriarch, the lives of our elders, and countless others who came before us."
The light behind him grew fiercer, casting long shadows as his fists clenched at his sides.
"But remember this," he continued, his voice thick with determination, "we did not fall last time. We fought with every ounce of strength we had. Though it tore through us with all its fury, we did not break. We stood. We prevailed. And today, we will do so again."
His gaze swept across his men, locking eyes with each of them, and in their faces, he saw the same unyielding resolve.
"We do not fight to survive anymore," he said, his tone growing more intense. "We fight to end it. And as your commander, your brother, I swear to you —we will not retreat. We will not falter. We will crush this darkness beneath our feet. This time, it ends here!"
The golden light around him flared, like a beacon of hope in the face of certain destruction.
"Our patriarch's spirit burns in us! Our elders' wisdom guides us! Their legacy is our strength, and we will not let their sacrifices be in vain!"
The soldiers, moved by the strength of his words, slammed their swords against their shields in unison, a deafening roar of affirmation ringing through the air.
"We fight together. And we fight to win!"
Vek's words rang out, like a battle cry, and the soldiers erupted into cheers, their hearts ignited with a fire that had been rekindled by his words.
A thunderous crash reverberated, signaling the return of the beast they had fought so fiercely against. The seal was being attacked.
CRACK! The unmistakable sound of glass shattering echoed in the distance. The barrier had broken.
"Now, let's finish what we started!" Vek shouted, his voice fierce and full of purpose. With a surge of power, he leapt to the top of the grand walls, the golden light around him bursting like a comet.
His soldiers, emboldened by his example, followed suit, charging forward as one, their battle cries echoing in unison.
Liora's eyes narrowed as she felt the violent surge of mana rush towards them. The disaster was upon them once more —the white devil had returned.
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