Tianlong's chest rose, a mountain heaving with breath. His scales caught the frost-light of the chamber, galaxies coiling within each plate of silver. When he spoke, the stone beneath Nameless's feet trembled.
"There is a tale whispered in every tavern and temple," the dragon rumbled, his voice echoing like a tide breaking against cliffs. "That the Hell King was too proud, too blind. That he strode into the hands of his companions and was devoured by his own arrogance. A fitting end, they say, for one who bore no crown but fire."
His eyes flared, veined with stars.
"But no one knows what truly happened. None saw the chains close. None heard his last cry. Only I remember… how trust was bartered, and how a king was shackled."
The Seven's plot was spun not in war halls, but in shadow. They wove false visions, sending whispers through mirrors of polished onyx, illusions dressed in the King's voice. To his beloved, Elara, they showed words not his own:
"Guard them, until my return. The vault is not yet safe. Trust the Seven, for they act in my name."
And Elara, bound by duty as Keeper, obeyed what she thought was an order from the king.
The King came to them unarmed. He carried no fire in his palms, no wrath in his heart. For he had believed them brothers, sisters—family.
But when he stepped into the sanctum they had prepared, the world itself shifted. A thousand sigils bloomed, burning with stolen fire. Chains fell from the air, not forged of metal but of concepts—oaths, laws, memory, time.
Vel-Karuun—the Monarch of No End—roared saying :
"I gave you fire, not as a weapon, but as a hearth to warm your children.""I gave you knowledge, not to bind, but to unshackle the weak from fear.""I shared my crownless hands, so that no man would kneel beneath me.""And still, you have chained them shut."
"I laughed with you, broke bread with you, called you brothers, called you sisters.""In your eyes, I thought I saw family.""But in your shadows, you hid knives sharper than any flame I could forge.""Tell me then — was my trust a jest to you?"
"I turned from eternity's throne for the sound of my children's laughter.""I laid aside conquest for the touch of love, fleeting and mortal though it be.""And yet it is for this, for daring to rest, for daring to be human, that you condemn me.""So let it be known — it was not gods nor demons who struck me down, but those I called my own."
"If chains are the reward for mercy, then let these chains curse you till the stars forget their names.""May every shadow you cast carry the weight of my fire, not as warmth, but as judgment eternal.", but the sound was drowned in silence.
Vel-Karuun's voice thundered and broke like a collapsing sky, each word drenched in fire and sorrow. His lament rang through the Vault like the toll of a funeral bell — a king stripped not of crown, but of trust, of family, of the fragile dream of rest. These were his final words, a curse and a confession all at once, given not to gods, but to those he had once called his own.
But the Seven did not flinch. His agony slid over their faces like rain on stone. Hengshi's hands twitched with the hunger of creation unbound. Tieyun smirked beneath his helm, already dreaming of wars to come. Zhanyue sneered at the weakness in love's name. Ziran's gaze was cold, as though he were merely watching a balance shift into place. Mingzhu's blind eyes burned with visions of doors opening, uncaring of the chains snapping shut. Lianxu lingered in shadow, his silence the cruelest laughter of all.
Only Eryu wept, her lips trembling as the others dragged the King of No End into his prison. She alone looked upon his ruin and faltered, but her voice was drowned beneath the roar of chains, the silence of betrayal, and the weight of eternity sealing shut. Ziran's gaze did not waver. Eryu looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
Thus ended the laughter of Vel-Karuun. Thus began the silence that would shatter Solivareth.
"Forgive us, brother," Ziran whispered as the bindings wrapped tighter. "You dream too small. The Vault belongs not to one man's heart, but to eternity itself."
The Prison Realm opened like a wound in the world. Its gates were not doors but an abyss, a hollow that swallowed light. And into it, they cast him—the King who had chosen to be human.
No one ever saw his face again. The people mourned in rumor, but never truth. His consort and children wept, never knowing his fate.
And in their sorrow, the Seven turned their hands to the forbidden.
They ascended the mountain where the Vault of Knowledge stood—Yǒnghéng zhī Jìng, The Mirror of Eternity.
It was no citadel of stone. It was a floating labyrinth, a palace of mirrored glass that stretched into infinity, each surface reflecting not the present, but possibilities. Within its shifting corridors lay every law of existence—immortality's formulae, death's undoing, the secrets that even gods dared not speak.
And Elara, deceived, opened it for them.
"With this," said Mingzhu, blind eyes alight with burning runes, "we shall create what even the Hell King feared to touch."
Seven shards were drawn from the Vault, each carved from the essence of their own souls. Hengshi's hands shaped them into crystals. Tieyun tempered them with war's fury. Zhanyue steeped them in malice. Mingzhu sealed them with foresight. Ziran balanced their forces. Eryu—hesitant, weeping—offered a spark of her purity. And Lianxu, laughing, wove deception through every layer.
They pressed the seven crystals into a vessel they had prepared, a body forged in flame and void.
And thus, the First Creation was born.
He rose in chains of fire, skin pale as ash, clad in flowing black robes that seemed woven from shadows themselves. Across his face was bound a mask—His mask is an intricate piece of dark metal, forged with ancient arcane designs that seem almost alive. It covers the right side of his face, partially wrapping around his temple and cheek, with sharp, ornamental edges that give it a sinister yet elegant appearance. A faint crimson light glows from within the mask's eye slot, matching the eerie red of his uncovered eye, hinting at a hidden power. The mask is not just a mere cover—it is a relic from forgotten times, said to bind a god-forged curse to its bearer, amplifying his strength while hiding part of his true identity. His eyes crimson, filled with endless grief that had no name.
The Seven looked upon him and did not call him brother.
"You are weapon, not just a man," Tieyun said, gauntlet striking the floor. "You are the edge that will cut gods."
They named him Nameless, for to name is to grant identity, and identity is to grant freedom.
And Elara, Keeper of the Vault, was given to him as guide.
They told her he was born of the Seven's will, a guardian forged to protect Solivareth. They told her he was destiny made flesh. They told her the Hell King had blessed it all.
And when she wept before having a look at Nameless. remembering the King who had vanished suddenly, the Seven laid their palms upon her brow. They unraveled her memory thread by thread, until love itself was a shadow she could no longer hold. Making her forget everything about the king.
Elara bowed, believing the Seven to be the true masters of Yǒnghéng zhī Jìng forgetting the king's memories.
And so she raised Nameless, teaching him the sigils of creation, the songs of binding, the wisdom of the Vault. She never saw his true face. The mask remained, always. The single crimson eye followed her, silent.
And though his steps were bound, though his name was stolen from elara's memories, in the deepest corner of her soul… something of the Hell King yet remained.
Tianlong's voice sank, heavy as an ocean trench.
"That, Nameless, is the truth the world was never meant to know. They say the Hell King was swallowed by pride. But in truth… he was swallowed by betrayal." The dragon's galaxies fixed upon him, flaring with a cold, eternal light.
Nameless staggered a step closer, his voice raw, breaking through the silence. "What happened? Where is he now, can I save him? Where was he taken? And… what have I done before my memories were erased? What is the mask you are talking about?"
The great beast's chest rumbled, each word shaking the air like thunder caged in stone. "You aside—" it growled, the words bitter and sharp, "you are the weapon they forged from his broken crown. And still, I wonder… where was the King sealed? For had he stood, had he endured, nothing—nothing—that followed would ever have been allowed to come to pass."