The wind that swept across the Ashlands carried no scent, no warmth—only whispers. Some said they were the voices of gods long dead. Others believed the land itself mourned something even older. Whatever truth it held, the Ashlands were not kind to those who dared trespass.
The four boys now walked its barren spine, accompanied only by Kaelen and a few Ministry sentinels. They had left the remains of New Avalon behind them—burned, buried, mourned.
Ren sliced the wind in idle arcs with his blade, eyes narrowing. "We've been watched since sunrise."
Haru flicked open the chamber on his pistol, checking the flares. "Three shapes. Two clicks behind. Silent as mist."
"Demons?" Icarus asked, dragging his fingers through the dirt to feel for tremors.
"No," Daiki said, eyes glowing faintly as his foresight pulsed. "Dominion."
Kaelen didn't stop walking. "Let them follow. If they attack here, the land itself will judge them."
The Legend of the Ashlands
That night, they found shelter in the ribs of a massive stone beast—long petrified, half-buried in sand. Haru lit a fire using blue flame. Ren sat apart, watching the horizon where no stars dared shine.
Kaelen finally broke the silence. "Do you know what the Ashlands used to be?"
"Wasteland of a dead war?" Haru guessed.
"Not war. Worship," Kaelen replied. "This was once the kingdom of the god Gai'zeran. He wasn't a god of mercy, nor of wisdom. He was the god of endings."
Daiki raised a brow. "Sounds comforting."
Kaelen gave a grim chuckle. "He was worshipped by those who wanted their enemies to vanish, by kings who wished to erase empires. But his power came with a price."
Icarus leaned closer. "What kind of price?"
"Your legacy. To use his power meant no memory of you would remain. You would win… but no one would ever know."
Ren muttered, "Sounds like the perfect way to hide a truth."
Kaelen nodded. "Exactly."
The Ambush
Just past midnight, the sand cracked.
Not from wind. Not from nature.
From intent.
The boys rose instantly—Ren's blade out, Haru's pistols loaded, Icarus planting his hand against the ground, and Daiki already seeing three seconds into the future.
Figures emerged from the mist—hooded, cloaked, skin branded with sigils that bled dark light.
"Dominion," Kaelen whispered. "They brought the Herald."
The Herald stepped forward—masked in bone, robed in black velvet, and speaking a language that shattered the silence.
"I am the archivist of death," the Herald said. "And you four are unfit to carry what sleeps beneath this earth."
Without warning, the ground exploded. Shadow-creatures with insect-like armor poured out, moving in complete silence. No growls. No roars. Just killing intent.
God-Tier Combat: Unleashed
Ren moved first. He leapt into the sky, blade swirling into a vortex, manipulating the wind into slicing whirlpools that shredded the first wave.
Haru backflipped off a rock, firing twin bursts of searing fire—each shot tracing paths that curved unnaturally, guided by a hidden algorithm in his pistols.
Daiki weaved between enemies before they struck, his movements precise, like he was dancing through a future only he could see.
Icarus anchored his feet and punched the earth—ripping stone pillars from the ground like fangs to impale the shadow creatures.
Kaelen fought like a reaper—his twin sickles severing limbs and heads in blurs of red.
The Herald joined the fray, commanding the shadows to merge. A monstrous demon rose, three stories tall, wearing a crown of bone and a chestplate made of broken wings.
The Herald whispered: "Let the blood of forgotten gods be your offering."
Turning the Tide
Ren's wind failed to slice the creature's armor.
Haru's fire bounced off.
Daiki's foresight was… clouded.
And Icarus—when he tried to summon the earth—was crushed under the beast's first blow, saved only by Kaelen's shield at the last second.
"We're not strong enough," Ren hissed, sweat pouring.
"Then grow," Kaelen snarled. "You were born for this!"
A pulse of energy erupted from Ren's core—his blade glowing with runes he'd never seen before. Wind compressed into a spiral, and when he swung next, the creature bled.
Daiki's sight sharpened—he blinked once, twice—and then moved behind the beast, striking a nerve in its spine with a blade hidden in his boot.
Haru fired straight into the eyes. The fire didn't burn—it melted through reality, momentarily revealing something… eldritch beneath the monster's skin.
And Icarus—bruised and bloodied—rose and slammed both fists into the sand, summoning an entire wall of jagged obsidian that skewered the demon from the inside out.
The beast screamed. Then it collapsed.
The Herald vanished into smoke.
Aftermath
They lay on the ground, breathing heavily. No victory cry. Just silence. The kind that spoke of survival.
Kaelen approached them, impressed. "You've crossed the line now. There's no turning back."
"Was there ever a line?" Ren asked.
Kaelen smiled. "Not really."
He pointed to a hill in the distance.
"Beyond that ridge lies the tomb of Gai'zeran," he said. "If the Dominion wants it, we must get there first."
Ren stood up, his blade still humming faintly.
"Then let's go meet a god."