The skies above Avalen were no longer blue — they had turned a sickly shade of violet, swirling with unnatural clouds crackling with black lightning. As the floating fortress known as the Obsidian Gale hovered like a vulture over the city, a grim silence fell across the battlefield. But it was only the calm before the storm.
From the ramparts of the Grand Spire, Raizen stood shoulder to shoulder with his crew, their clothes tattered, their faces worn. Below them, chaos erupted. Shadow-bound soldiers surged through the city like a plague, clashing with Avalen's defenders, mercenaries, and resistance fighters who had once stood divided — now forced to unite.
"We need to cut the power to the fortress," Kael growled, his axe already bloodied.
"That core on the prow — the Crown fragment. It's channeling energy directly into their troops," Lyra shouted, parrying a spear strike with her sabers. "It's not just enhancing them — it's controlling them."
Raizen nodded, eyes fixed on the obsidian sphere now pulsing above the floating warship like a cursed sun.
"This ends now."
The assault was swift and brutal.
Using a commandeered skycutter, Raizen, Lyra, Kael, and Rook launched into the sky, dodging anti-air blasts and winged constructs as they approached the Obsidian Gale. The Crown's influence distorted reality around the ship — time warped, shadows whispered, and illusions assaulted their senses.
Kael grunted, swinging his axe at a floating knight made of smoke. "I'm gonna be sick from this magic nonsense!"
Raizen clenched his fists, his power surging just to hold back the Crown's corruption. The deeper they flew, the louder the voices became — whispering doubts, fears, regrets.
You'll become him… You're already him… Power devours everything…
But Raizen had faced fear before. This time, he welcomed it.
He landed first on the fortress deck, igniting a ripple of dark energy as the shadow-forged guards emerged from the mist. Raizen didn't wait. In a blur, he struck, his blades glowing with the ethereal energy granted by his pact — each strike precise, each movement born of both rage and purpose.
Inside the fortress, they reached the core chamber. There, encased in crystal and shadow, stood the fragment of the Crown of Shadows — now fully awakened. And before it, clad in ceremonial armor black as night, stood a former king — Emperor Dazuron, a warlord long thought dead.
"Magnar sends his regards," Dazuron said, voice echoing with the Crown's influence. "You've played your game well, Raizen. But this is checkmate."
Raizen stepped forward. "No crown makes a king. And no shadow rules me."
Their clash shook the fortress.
Dazuron wielded a greatsword infused with raw corruption, every strike threatening to tear reality apart. Raizen countered with speed and willpower, dodging blows and redirecting them. But the closer he got to the Crown fragment, the harder it became to resist its pull.
Below, the city burned.
Reinforcements arrived — the pirate queen Kira of the Silver Scars, the exiled monk Jin of the Hollow Flame, and even a rogue marine battalion led by Captain Elenor, all drawn into the war that had consumed the world. Kings, warlords, tyrants — all had joined, for one reason or another.
And they were falling.
In the heart of the Obsidian Gale, Raizen was bleeding, on his knees. Dazuron raised his sword for a final strike — but paused.
Raizen wasn't afraid.
Instead, he reached into his coat… and revealed the last shard of the Crown — the one he'd hidden even from his crew.
"Let's see what happens," Raizen whispered, and slammed it into the core.
A scream — not of pain, but of history itself — echoed through the skies. The Crown of Shadows recoiled. The power within the fortress destabilized, the entire structure beginning to collapse as the shards rejected one another.
Dazuron screamed in rage as his body disintegrated into smoke. The obsidian dome above shattered, unleashing a pillar of light into the clouds.
The spell was broken.
Avalen was saved — but not without cost.
Many had died. Alliances once forged in fire were now ashes. And as the Obsidian Gale began to fall from the sky, Raizen and his team barely escaped aboard a battered skycutter.
From the ground, the world watched as the great fortress crashed into the far sea, creating a maelstrom that swallowed half the horizon.
Raizen looked back, exhausted.
Lyra stood beside him, her expression hollow.
"We won," she whispered.
Raizen shook his head.
"No," he said quietly. "We survived. The war's just begun."
Above them, the storm clouds still churned — and far to the east, on an unseen throne, Magnar smiled.
End of Chapter 14: The Fall of Kings