The Sovereign's dust scattered on the wind, caught in the crimson glow still burning faintly around Kael.
No one moved.
The battlefield, once a cacophony of screams and steel, was now a graveyard of silence. Soldiers froze mid-step, blades slack in their hands. Even the wounded stopped crying out, as if the world itself had forgotten how to breathe.
Kael lowered his sword slowly. His chest rose and fell, each breath dragging fire and exhaustion through his veins. Lightning still clung to him, flickering in faint arcs, unwilling to let him return fully to mortality.
Then—
A single cry broke the stillness.
"Victory!"
It came from one of his companions, voice hoarse but alive with disbelief. Others followed, shouts and cheers spilling like a dam finally burst. Soldiers who had once stood paralyzed dropped their weapons and fell to their knees, not in surrender, but in awe.
Kael looked at them, at the faces of the broken yet unbowed. He should have felt triumph. Instead, he felt only the crushing weight of what came next.
Far from the battlefield, the Sovereign's court erupted into chaos.
The great obsidian chamber shook as word spread through trembling messengers: The Sovereign has fallen.
Lords of ironclad dynasties shouted across the hall, some in denial, some in terror, some already scheming.
"This cannot be true!"
"He was eternal!"
"If he is dead, then who rules?"
At the far end, where the black throne sat cold and unoccupied, the air seemed heavier, as if the very seat of power refused to accept its master's demise.
Kaelen stood apart in the shadows, listening. His eyes glimmered beneath the hood. He did not join the panic. Instead, he whispered to himself:
"So… it begins. The empire without its tyrant is more dangerous than the tyrant himself."
Back on the field, Kael's companions gathered around him. Aric placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. Lyra's eyes, wet with both relief and fear, lingered on the crimson lightning that still pulsed beneath Kael's skin.
"You did it," Aric said softly.
"No…" Kael corrected, his voice low. "We did."
But inside, Kael knew the truth: it had been something beyond them all. That final moment, when his power had torn through the Sovereign—it hadn't just been him. It had been the rage, grief, and will of generations bound into his blood.
Lyra shivered as she whispered, "Kael… what have you become?"
Kael didn't answer. He wasn't sure
Across kingdoms, news of the Sovereign's death spread like wildfire.
In hidden strongholds, rebels celebrated, lighting flames on mountaintops.
In fortified citadels, vassal lords drew their maps, readying armies to seize what was left.
In distant academies, scholars recorded the day as the end of an age.
But not all rejoiced.
There were whispers of a deeper shadow, of chains that had bound the Sovereign himself, and of powers far more ancient now stirring restlessly.