The Rise of the Summoned Heroes:
Five years had passed.
The once-unstoppable Demon King was now but a shadow of the godlike being he once was. His horns was the source of his immortality and power were gone. His mana diminished. His body, no longer invincible. Yet despite his fall from might, Kaiden still stood tall in the eyes of those who mattered most was his children.
The Five Devil Progenies, no longer the fragile souls once cradled by Mari's warmth, had grown into fierce protectors. At twelve years old, their strength was monstrous, their loyalty unshakable. They had sworn upon their mother's grave and their father's sacrifice: no harm would come to him again.
But peace is not a gift the world bestows freely.
Humanity, ever fearful of the return of darkness, refused to wait for the tides to shift. They knew Kaiden still lived, and with him, the last embers of the demon race. And worse those embers were reigniting.
The sacred relics of old—the Holy Weapons that could still kill the Demon King. But by divine law, only those not born of this world could wield them. For centuries, the Ten-Year Summoning Ritual was the key to calling such heroes. But this time, the world could not wait ten years.
So they cheated fate.
In desperation and madness, the Five Nations of Aranthor committed an unspeakable sin: a Forbidden Summoning Ritual, fueled by the lives of tens of thousands. Entire cities were sacrificed men, women, and children reduced to ash so that a rift between realms could be torn open prematurely.
From that wound in the fabric of reality, four legendary heroes descended.
They were not like the champions of old. These were beings born from chaos, molded by divine wrath and human desperation. They were blessed by gods, but tainted by the blood of the innocent. Sharpened into living weapons, their mission was clear:
Eradicate demonkind.
The Storm of Steel and Magic
The world held its breath.
The five great nations stood united for the first time in history, their banners flying as one. The armies of Aranthor, bolstered by the four summoned heroes, surged toward the Demon Lands with a singular goal is to end the last chapter of the demon legacy.
The skies were choked with ash. The earth groaned beneath the weight of armies. The winds howled with the clash of steel and the roar of spells. It was no longer a war, it was a storm.
And at its center stood five children of the Demon King.
At twelve years old, the Devil Progenies no longer resembled children. Their power had matured, their will unbroken. Each of them stood against legions, holding the line, fighting with fury that defied reason.
Kaen—the firstborn, with flames that scorched the skies.
Serine—the shieldmaiden, unyielding and cold as obsidian.
Draven—the silent reaper, whose shadows devoured light.
Malrik—the berserker, laughter echoing through carnage.
Lyra—the tempest, her song a dirge of destruction.
They fought not as monsters, but as guardians.
But the tide turned.
The might of the human armies, bolstered by the heroes' divine strength, pressed on like an unending wave. No matter how many fell, more came. The demon army dwindled. Their homeland, once feared, was reduced to rubble.
And one by one, the demon warriors fell. Until only the children remained.
Captured. Shackled. Dragged through the mud by those who feared and envied them. The once-proud Devil Progenies were now prisoners of war.
Their execution was to be a message.
A cruel, final punctuation to humanity's revenge.
Kaiden's Last Stand :
He watched it all.
From the darkness of his chamber, Kaiden saw his children fall. His heart long thought stone shattered in silence. He had kept his promise. He had not fought. He had not killed.
But now, they stood before him, in chains.
The human king stood triumphant. Again. His voice was smug with victory.
"Your monsters are finished, Kaiden. It's over."
And then, Kaiden smiled.
A small, tired smile not of defeat, but of peace.
"You've done well, my children. If only… if only I had never met her... perhaps things would have been different."
The five knelt before him, tears in their eyes.
They had fought. They had bled. And now, they were ready to die just as he once was.
But Kaiden had one final gift to give.
With the last remnants of his power, what little mana his broken body still held, he raised his hand. The air shimmered. Light cracked across the chamber.
And in a flash, the demon children were gone.
Banished to the farthest edges of the world, along with the last surviving demons. Away from war. Away from hatred.
To safety.
And as the humans surged forward to strike him down, Kaiden simply turned his gaze to the sky, whispering:
"I will never fight again."
Not because he couldn't.
But because he had finally learned what it meant to protect.
To be continued...