The battlefield was silent, thick with anticipation as the Life Bender climbed down from the Garuda Mountain, his frail hands trembling as he carefully examined the divine herbs he had plucked. Each leaf glowed with an ethereal radiance, its golden veins pulsing with ancient healing energy.
“These herbs are really potent,” the Life Bender muttered. “Perfect… absolutely perfect.”
Sparky, the Ancient Dragon, huffed softly, lowering its massive head beside the old wizard. Fatty Ben wiped the sweat off his forehead, still catching his breath from the perilous journey.
“Are you sure this will work?” Fatty Ben asked anxiously.
“There is no other choice,” the Life Bender replied. “These herbs are the only known counter to the Serpent’s Hell Bind. But time is against us. We must act fast.”
The human army stood at a distance, holding their breath. Madam Clark clutched her chest, watching as the Life Bender worked. Amelia, Sony, Lucy, Maya, and Kent’s other companions stood in a row, their faces pale with anxiety.
The Life Bender crushed the herbs between his palms, and a shimmering golden liquid oozed out. With precise movements, he poured it over Kent’s body, which was still wrapped from head to toe in the writhing, demonic serpents.
The moment the golden liquid touched them, the snakes screeched in agony. One by one, they withered into blackened dust, their cursed venom purged by the divine energy of the Garuda Mountain’s herbs.
A heavy sigh of relief spread through the gathered warriors as they saw Kent’s body freed from the serpents. Yet, his skin remained a sickly blue, his breath ragged and weak.
“Wake up, boy…” the Life Bender whispered, his voice barely audible over the murmurs of the army.
Then, it happened.
Kent’s fingers twitched. His chest rose with a deep, shaky breath. His eyes fluttered open, revealing his fierce golden pupils.
The entire army roared with triumph. Cheers echoed through the battlefield as warriors embraced one another in joy.
“The Dragon Lord woke up!”
Yet, amidst the celebration, the sun had begun its descent. The sky darkened. From the gates of the Demon Castle, a low, guttural growl rumbled—a sign that the demons were preparing to launch their attack.
Kent, still weak, struggled to his feet. His mother rushed forward, tears in her eyes. “You’re awake! Thank the heavens!”
Kent gritted his teeth. “There’s… no time… Prepare a defence line…”
–
Far away, beyond the battlefield, the castle of the War God loomed in the celestial sky, its golden towers piercing the heavens.
A lone figure walked towards its entrance.
Unlike the other gods, who adorned themselves in divine robes and ornaments, this figure was dressed in the simplest of wizard’s robes. His aura was faint yet overwhelming, his presence unassuming yet godly.
The Fate God had arrived.
The door guards at the castle’s gates immediately bowed. One of them ran inside to alert the War God of his father’s presence.
Moments later, the War God, Maximus, rushed outside, his expression conflicted.
“Father?” he called, seeing the ordinary appearance of the Fate God. “Why do you look like this?”
The Fate God raised a brow. “Is that really the first thing you want to ask me?”
The War God hesitated. “I mean… I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I came here as a father, not as the Fate God,” the old deity said, stepping closer. “Tell me, Maximus… Have I failed as a father? Or have you failed as my son?”
The words struck the War God like a hammer. His breath hitched. “Father, I—”
The Fate God continued, his voice stern. “I raised you to be a warrior. A protector. A god worthy of his title. And yet… you sit here, watching as millions suffer under the tyranny of a forbidden goddess.”
Tears welled up in Maximus’s eyes. “Father, my hands are tied! The gods took an oath—”
“Oaths?” The Fate God scoffed. “Tell me, Maximus… Is your pursuit of becoming an Old God more important than saving humanity?”
The War God clenched his fists, shame burning in his heart. “No… but if I interfere, the gods will—”
“The gods?” The Fate God’s voice thundered. “You are the real god! You rule these realms! Yet, here you are, hesitating while your people suffer!”
The War God fell to his knees. His heart ached with guilt. “What do I do, Father? Tell me… what can I do?”
The Fate God sighed, stepping forward. He placed a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. “Maximus, you must remember something. You are not just a god. You are my son. Before you became the War God, you were a warrior. You were a protector. Prove to me today that you are worthy of the title.”
Maximus looked up, tears streaming down his face. “I understand now… I won’t sit still any longer.”
The Fate God nodded, his form beginning to fade. “Then go… and show the world who you truly are.”
The War God, Maximus, knelt before the empty space where his father, the Fate God, had disappeared. His heart pounded, his mind weighed heavy with the burden of his father’s words. The tears that stained his face were not just of sorrow, but of realization.
His father was right. He had forgotten his true duty. He had allowed rules and politics to blind him from his responsibility to protect humanity. He clenched his fists, his divine aura slowly rising around him like a golden inferno.
Maximus stood abruptly, his voice echoing through the great halls of his castle. “Gather everyone at once! Prepare the divine chariot and call forth my army! We march now!”
The War God’s decree reverberated all around multiple times. The castle of the War God, which had remained silent for decades, burst into action. Soldiers rushed to the armory, polishing their divine weapons and donning their battle armor. The great forges burned bright as blacksmiths reforged ancient swords, spears, and shields that had not seen war for centuries.
On the training grounds, massive golden-armored warriors lined up in formations. Their divine steeds, majestic beasts of thunder and fire, roared in anticipation. The skies above the castle darkened as powerful winged creatures, griffins and celestial eagles, took flight, awaiting their masters.
Inside the War God’s chamber, the servants dressed Maximus in his battle armor. His crimson cape, the mark of his station, billowed behind him as he strode toward the stables.
His divine chariot, pulled by seven celestial stallions wreathed in lightning, stood ready. His most elite warriors, the Celestial Guard, formed a protective circle around him, their faces set in grim determination.
General Leontius approached. “My Lord, the army is assembled. We await your command.”
Maximus climbed onto his chariot, gripping the golden reins tightly. “Then we march. Tonight, the heavens themselves shall tremble as we ride to war!”
With a mighty cry, he cracked the reins. The divine stallions reared and took off, pulling the War God’s chariot into the stormy skies. Behind him, the entire army surged forward, their battle cries shaking the heavens.
–
[Conti…]