The jade token pulsed faintly in the Exiled Prince's hand, its glow matching the rhythm of his own heartbeat. Around him, the ragtag group of outcasts followed in silence. They had marched for days across jagged cliffs and barren wastes, where even the wind seemed to howl like a hungry beast.
"Are you sure about this, my lord?" Lira's voice broke the silence. She adjusted the worn bow slung across her shoulder, her eyes darting nervously toward the looming canyon ahead. "They say no one who enters this place ever returns."
The Prince's lips curled into the faintest smile. "If death waits inside, then it's better than living like hunted dogs. But if power lies within…" He clenched the jade token tighter. "Then this is where our rise begins."
The outcasts exchanged uneasy glances. They were thieves, deserters, and broken souls who had no future in the empire. Yet something in the young man's voice—steel hidden beneath the calm—bound them to his shadow.
At the canyon's heart, hidden behind fallen boulders, lay the ruin. Its gate was half-buried, framed by broken statues of demon generals, their heads shattered, their claws reaching skyward as if frozen in eternal rage. The air itself seemed heavy here, thick with an ancient pressure that weighed on their lungs.
When the Prince stepped forward, the Codex hidden within his soul stirred violently. Dark runes flickered across his vision, superimposed over the crumbling walls. He froze, recognizing something he had never seen before: the markings of the Nether Monarch.
The murals etched along the ruin's walls told a story in broken fragments—armies of demons bowing, gods split apart, and a single shadowed figure devouring them all. His pulse quickened. Could his mother's whispers about "a throne that even gods once feared" be tied to this place?
"The Codex… it's reacting," he muttered, half to himself.
Dark flame spread across the runes, absorbed into the Codex's pages. His head throbbed, fragments of forgotten memories flashing like lightning—an army kneeling in blood, a throne carved from bones, a monarch's laughter echoing against the void.
"My lord?" Lira's voice trembled now. She had seen his eyes darken, shadows twisting within their depths.
He exhaled sharply and forced the visions down. "This ruin… it isn't just a grave. It's a key."
They pressed forward. The ruin's heart was sealed by a massive stone door, covered in runes that looked like the scars of fallen stars. For centuries, it had remained untouched, resisting both time and invader alike.
The Prince lifted his hand, the jade token burning in his palm. Against all reason, the runes on the door flickered awake, lines of ancient power crawling across the stone as though recognizing him.
His heart thundered. Could it be… that his bloodline was tied to this Monarch? Or was it the Codex guiding him toward destiny?
The air grew colder, his breath fogging as he pressed his palm flat against the door. The stone trembled, dust cascading from its edges. The sound was like a beast groaning in its sleep.
Behind him, the outcasts whispered nervously. Some gripped their weapons. Others fell to their knees, too afraid to move.
Lira's hand hovered near her dagger, though she never drew it. Her eyes were locked on him, caught between fear and unshakable faith.
The Prince pressed harder.
With a deafening crack, the door split down the middle. Black fire licked through the gap, casting long shadows that seemed to writhe and twist like living things.
The ruin shuddered, a pulse of power surging outward and washing over them all. The outcasts cried out, clutching their heads as whispers filled their minds—ancient chants, voices promising dominion, voices promising despair.
And then, as the crack widened further, a voice spoke—not in sound, but directly into the Prince's heart.
"So… you have come at last."
His blood ran cold.
The door lurched fully open, revealing a chamber drenched in eternal black flames. Statues lined its walls—shattered warriors kneeling in supplication, their faces erased by time. At its center burned a brazier of fire that had no heat, its flames devouring even the light around it.
The Prince's breath caught. He knew, instinctively, that this was no ordinary ruin. It was the resting place of something far older, far darker.
As he stepped across the threshold, the Codex within him trembled violently, flipping open page after page in a frenzy. His mother's face flashed in his mind—her final words, her bloodied hands pushing the Codex into his grasp.
She had known. She had always known.
The brazier's flames flared higher, as though recognizing his presence.
And then—the earth shook.
A low, guttural growl rose from the shadows.
Something vast moved in the darkness beyond the brazier.
The skeletal outline of a beast, its bones fused with black crystal, lifted its head. Empty eye sockets blazed with crimson fire as it uncoiled, its ribcage expanding with the sound of grinding stone.
The ruin's guardian… had awakened.
The Prince's hand tightened around his sword. His heartbeat steadied, a grim smile pulling at his lips.
"So, the test begins."
The beast roared, and the chamber itself trembled.
The roar shook dust from the ceiling, fragments of broken stone raining down. The outcasts stumbled backward, terror flashing in their eyes as the skeletal beast stepped into the brazier's light.
Its body was an abomination—bones fused with jagged shards of black crystal, each movement scraping like grinding steel. Empty sockets glowed with twin embers of hatred, and from its maw spilled a mist of crimson flame that hissed against the ground.
"By the Abyss…" one of the outcasts whispered, his voice cracking. He dropped his spear and fell to his knees, trembling so violently he could not even crawl away.
"Stand your ground!" the Prince barked. His voice cut through their panic like a blade. Even so, he could feel the pressure himself—an aura of death and fury that threatened to suffocate him.
The Codex within his soul flared violently, pages turning as runes seared into his mind.
Guardian of the Ruin: Bound by flame and bone.
Strength: Beyond mortal measure.
Trial: Devour or be devoured.
His lips curled into a grim smile. So this was no ordinary beast. This was the test.
The skeletal colossus lowered its head. The crystals along its spine blazed, and in the next instant it lunged.
The Prince leapt aside, the ground shattering where he had stood. He rolled across the ancient stone, heat licking at his face as crimson fire erupted from the guardian's jaws, scorching the walls black.
Screams echoed behind him. One of his men was caught by the flame—his body turned to ash in a blink. The outcasts scattered, some pressing themselves against the walls, others clutching their weapons but too paralyzed to act.
Lira wasn't frozen. She fired an arrow, the shaft whistling as it struck the beast's ribcage—only to shatter uselessly against crystal bone.
"It won't fall to steel!" she cried out.
The Prince steadied his breathing. His heart thundered, not from fear but from exhilaration. This was the crucible. This was the forge where power was seized, not given.
"Good," he muttered, flames licking faintly at the corners of his lips. "If you cannot be slain by mortal means, then you are worthy prey."
The Codex pulsed, black runes coiling across his skin. His blood roared as the fusion of wolf's regeneration and berserker rage stirred within him. His veins burned with fire and hunger both.
He launched forward.
The skeletal beast met him with a swipe of its claw, a blur of bone and crystal. He ducked beneath it, the impact cracking the floor where he had stood. Using the momentum, he sprang upward, blade igniting with Nether Flame, and struck against its ribcage.
The flame hissed, searing black into the bone. For the first time, the guardian recoiled, its roar echoing like thunder.
The Prince landed, chest heaving, but his eyes blazed brighter than the guardian's.
"Yes," he growled under his breath. "Bleed for me. Burn for me. Be mine to devour."
Behind him, the outcasts stared wide-eyed, their terror slowly turning into awe. For the first time, they saw not just a fugitive prince… but the shadow of a monarch rising from exile.
The guardian's flames flared higher, filling the chamber with a choking heat.
And as it advanced once more, the Codex whispered inside his mind:
"Consume it… and the ruin shall open fully."
The Prince tightened his grip on his sword. His smile turned sharp, almost feral.
"Then let this be my offering."
The skeletal beast lunged, and he met it head-on—Nether Flame roaring to life as man and monster collided.
Cliffhanger deepened: the battle begins.