As The saying goes. "From deepest shadows, dawn's first light takes flight"
-Unknown Planet-
The air was charged with the raw might of warring monarchs. Ashborn, the Shadow Monarch-a figure wreathed in darkness-called down a shower of shadowy tendrils, which lashed out at assembled servants of rulers.
Mountain-sized dragons thundered, blowing forth fire on a battlefield that already ran wet with blood. Goliaths of granite hide and nightmare colossi came forth to fight. Their roar went across the blasted landscape like an earthquake's echo.
Amidst the turmoil, one form glided with impossible grace – the Monarch of Light and Dawn. He was a riddle, A whisper of mystery among monarchs, an old ruler whose history continued to be enigmatically sealed within a mysterious past known only through the whisper that attributed him as the "greatest brilliant light among the stars", and so it is whispered with fear and reverence as one equally.
His presence was paradoxical, a beacon of blinding light amidst the oppressive darkness of Ashborn's reign. He didn't fight with brute force like the others; his movements were precise, almost balletic, each strike a calculated blow that cleaved through monstrous forms with ethereal ease.
His blade, which hummed with celestial power, left trails of light as it cut through darkness like a scythe cutting through fields. Chillingly efficient in his movements, he prowled through the storm of destruction like a silent predator. With one swing, his blade could mow down a legion of lesser monsters; with one glare, he could paralyze a dragon.
The other monarchs watched him with a mixture of awe and apprehension; his power was undeniable, his motives inscrutable. Was he an ally or another threat in this brutal dance of death? The answer remained hidden, lost in the swirling chaos of the eternal twilight that had fallen upon the battlefield.
The battle between the titans, a concert of destruction interlocked with silent poise as he went; for in silence were the real intentions of Monarch of Light and Dawn-a secret locked even to the celestial realm. The power that now ruled had no choice but alter due to this giant.
' This guy. He's dangerous!'
-the king of dragons and destruction Antares. Contemplated staring at the distorted image of what used to be a ruler
Then from bruised, dusk-colored sky came the last remains of the Lords, their shape ragged, broken. Ashborn, the Shadow Monarch, and the Monarch of Light and Dawn stood through the ruin of the battlefield's desolation gazing out towards the approaching ones.
It was a palpable tension in the air, but the whispering of the wind through the bony remnants of fallen monsters alone broke that. Two monarchs watched; figures of vast power, ideology opposites as they gazed at the vanquished Rulers. Hesitant their steps were now, postures humble, these defeated kings made their approach.
Ashborn and the Monarch of Light and Dawn stood silhouetted against the bruised twilight sky, their eyes fixed upon the falling Rulers. There was a silence over the desolate battlefield, the only noisiness the wind blowing through broken bones and twisted metal.
Then a quivering voice broke the silence: "Please… it is time for both of you to forgive us. Oh, two of the most magnificent pieces of brilliant light…" Another Ruler echoed the thought, his voice strained, "There is no reason for us to continue this war any further."
"Forgive you? You wormy blots! You betrayed the very foundations of creation, bowing to lesser evils and forsaking the light for the shadows! You deserve nothing but annihilation!" The Monarch of Light and Dawn stayed silent, his eyes growing harder than glacial shards. His silence, far more chilling than any outburst, spoke volumes.
A whimper broke from the ranks of the Rulers. "He… he was our master as well…"
The Light and Dawn's monarch flung out a hand, grasping one of the cringing Rulers by the throat, his fingers like a vice. His voice, when it came, was a rustling whisper, cold as the grave.
"And what twisted mockery of loyalty made you, who once pledged your souls to the Absolute, utter such sacrilegious lies? Did the darkness corrupt your very memories, leaving you nothing but hollow shells of what you once were?" He released the Ruler, tossing him aside like a broken toy. The Ruler landed with a sickening thud, the light in his face draining away.
The remaining Rulers, crippled by fear and guilt, continued their desperate pleas for forgiveness, their words lost in a deluge of apologies and self-recriminations. They spoke of their failures, their betrayal, their desperate hope for redemption. Ashborn and the Monarch of Light and Dawn remained unmoved, their faces unreadable. The weight of their silence, the unspoken judgment, was heavier than any punishment.
Then, as abruptly as they had arrived, the two monarchs turned and retreated, leaving the broken, repentant Rulers to their fate, their silence a condemnation more potent than any words. The battlefield, still littered with the remnants of their war, fell into an uneasy quiet, the future uncertain under the watchful gaze of the silent, retreating figures.
Watching their silhouette go into a gate, the rulers and the monarchs silently
watched as one by one under the command of the monarchs, the monsters also retreated, after all two of their strongest combatant already left
They are not dumb enough to fight with the rulers for now
-Time passed by 500 years later-
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{A/N; I forgot some of the timelines in SL since it has been ages since I finished the manwha so I would appreciate if you point out some of my mistakes.}
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A long-abandoned ruined castle clawed at the bruised sky, as if stinging an old sore where its stones drank the hues of a thousand sunsets and a thousand battles.
A path, visible only through broken stones and withering vines crawling over the fallen masonry, wound to a heart where only a skeletal finger pointed towards darkened keep.
At its top, amidst the decay within the crumpling throne hall, a man sat within glowing ethereal glow. His unblemished bright white armor lay impossibly undisturbed around him against crushing darkness.
The armor itself seemed to hum with a faint, inner light, each plate a flawless reflection of the spectral luminescence that emanated from the figure within. No face was visible, only the imposing silhouette, a silent sentinel guarding secrets of the ruined castle, a silent guardian of a forgotten age.
The air crackled with an almost palpable energy, a silent testament to the power held within that pristine, white form.
The silence of the ruined castle was broken only by the whisper of the wind and the faint creak of ancient stone. He sat upon the throne, a figure sculpted from moonlight and shadow, his white armor gleaming faintly in the dim light.
He had sat there for centuries. Silent witness to the world, a silent companion to its calamity. Countless empires have risen and fallen; hundreds of wars, each ebbing and flowing endlessly; and thousands of life-death dances had ensued. A very powerful being who was once only a part of a celestial form, a guard to an antiquated era, he could never fill the gnawing that sat in the hollow of his heart. He was alone, utterly and completely alone. He had witnessed the rise of the Shadow Monarch, Ashborn, an entity of immense darkness who had selected a vessel and a system to draw his power through.
The Architect's involvement was brought to his attention, accounts of a system designed to amplify the abilities of the vessel, a system that had taken what appeared to be an ordinary human and turned him into an unstoppable machine of unbridled might. He knew the potential of such a symbiotic relationship, the capacity for destruction and creation. He, too, wanted a vessel, a conduit to express his immense power, to reach out to the world in meaningful ways. But his way would be different. Ashborn had chosen a vessel with the capacity to wield immense power, a vessel forged in the fires of adversity. He, however, would look for a vessel of purity, a soul untainted by the darkness that plagued the world. A soul so pure, so untouched by malice, that it could withstand the immense power he would bestow upon it.
And to steer this vessel, he would not create his own system, but seek the Architect's help, asking for a system to nurture purity and guide the vessel toward a way of righteousness, a counterpoint to Ashborn's reign of darkness.
He would not fully possess the vessel, but instead, a fragment of his mana, a whisper of his power, would reside within the chosen one, subtly guiding and strengthening them. This subtle influence would be undetectable, a silent guardian watching over the chosen one, a guiding light within.
With a resolve that had solidified over centuries of contemplation, he reached out, his spectral hand extending towards a shimmering portal, a gateway to the world of mortals.
He would contact the Architect, requesting a system for his chosen vessel, a system that would be a beacon of hope in a world drowning in darkness.
His path was clear. The search for the purest soul would begin. As he initiated contact a wave of celestial energy washed over him, a blinding light that consumed his physical form.
He would cease to exist as an independent entity, his essence merging with the world, waiting for the moment his fragment of mana would find its destined vessel. His sacrifice was complete. His purpose, finally, had a beginning.
-Planet Of Dragons-
Upon a pile of bones sat a figure in long red hair resting in peace when his eyes suddenly widened in shock
Then with a flick of his finger a dragon with overbearing momentum and the size of a castle came to his side
"Convey this message to the other monarchs. The statement is. The Monarch of Light and Dawn; Luminas has DIED!"
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How is this? Want to make this chapter as short as possible since I really don't know much of the battle between the monarchs and the rulers since it's short covered in the manwha
Plus it's hard since there's an inserted character that made me reread the manhwa so that it would further build up his background
Btw for the image of the MC and Luminas. I have not yet found any accurate arts