The air was still unbearably heavy after the descent of the Ten Commandments. No one dared to raise their head, nor did anyone dare to speak. Some did not even breathe too heavily, as if the sound alone would invite judgment, while others trembled so violently that their shaking became louder than silence itself.
In that stillness, Elyndo's voice resounded, deep and commanding, echoing across the vast emptiness like thunder rolling through the hollow sky.
"The Law has been established. It binds you within a boundary none of you may escape. But the Law is not a blade pressed forever to your throats, nor does it guard itself.
One day, someone will uncover the flaw within it… or another, one who no longer knows fear, will dare to rise and challenge it. When that day comes, the Law you now call eternal will reveal itself as nothing more than a fragile thread, holding you only for a fleeting instant before it breaks apart.
You have seen it for yourselves—the yearning of gods is strong enough to drag even the heavens into the abyss. I did not forge the Law to slay you. I forged it so that you might endure, so that you might still remain. But…"
He paused, and the silence deepened, heavy enough to press against every heart. When his voice returned, it tolled with the gravity of a great bell ringing through the void.
"But the Law is nothing more than a chain without a soul. Chains do not keep watch. Chains do not rise when chaos floods the world. If only the Law stands, then this order will fracture, it will falter, it will collapse.
To preserve the world, there must be a soul willing to burn. There must be a hand that dares to lift the light and bear it high, a will that does not falter even before the darkness.
There must be one who stands in My stead— a pillar to mark the path, a sentinel to guard the way, a flame unyielding to bar the abyss and keep it from devouring all once more."
The air was still unbearably heavy after the descent of the Ten Commandments. No one dared to raise their head, and no one dared to speak. Some did not even breathe too heavily, as if the sound alone would draw judgment, while others trembled so violently that their bodies seemed ready to collapse beneath the weight pressing down upon them.
In that silence, Elyndo's voice resounded, deep and commanding, echoing across the vast emptiness like thunder rolling through the hollow sky.
He pronounced his judgment, heavy as an anvil and sharp as a blade.
"Thus, I shall establish seven thrones.
Each throne shall be an eternal flame.
Whoever dares to step upon it will have their soul consumed, burned away until only the bare essence remains.
If that essence is strong enough, he will merge with the throne, becoming a Pillar of Light, standing with Me to uphold creation.
But if that essence is weak and craven, the throne will crush him, erase his name, and scatter his soul into ash, etched into eternity as a curse and a warning to those who come after.
This is not a reward. This is a sentence.
Whoever ascends the throne chooses to bear the chains of their own making, and they will carry them until the very end of time."
The last echo of Elyndo's voice faded, and the universe itself exploded in a roar without end. The skies collapsed downward in waves, folding upon themselves like slabs of stone grinding to dust. The earth split open and shuddered as though struck by ten thousand hammers at once. From the abyss of nothingness, seven pillars of light erupted together, twisting heaven and earth, piercing reality itself, and transforming into seven immortal temples.
First, the Temple of Humility took form. From the depths of the ground, colossal stones surged upward, locking into place to form a heavy dome that hung low, pressing down as though to force the entire sky upon the soil. The walls were coarse and dark, not soaring upward but instead dragging every gaze downward. Any who approached felt their lungs tighten, their chests grow heavy, their knees buckle without command. The entire vault of heaven seemed to weigh upon them, crushing every trace of pride into dust.
Next came a golden radiance, bursting forth in a flood like a sea of fire. Thousands of statues of every being clawed their way upward around a charred black floor: frail mortals, trembling beasts, gods left gaunt and hollow. All of them stretched out their hands to receive the torrents of treasure—jewels, gold, rivers of radiant wealth pouring down like a cascade. And at the heart of this storm of light, a temple slowly emerged. Its walls were torn, its roof shattered, its pillars reduced to scorched frames. It bore the form of one who had given everything, who had poured out even their own flesh until nothing remained. Any hand, greedy enough to reach for the flowing riches, found its prize turned to ash, fusing to their flesh, burning each finger away in a silence broken only by strangled screams. This was the Temple of Charity—where giving reached its end, and the body itself became dust.
Then the earth split apart, and from its wound poured a stream of crystalline water, clear as glass and utterly still. The lake that spread across the land was flawless, its surface without ripple, yet it reflected every detail of those who dared to stand near—each strand of hair, every crack upon a face, every scar the soul had carried hidden. From the center of the lake, shards of crystal rose like towers of ice, locking together into a palace of blinding radiance. Any who approached found their reflection cast before them, stripped bare until nothing could be hidden. No mask remained, no shadow to conceal them, every sin revealed in merciless light. Many gods screamed and tried to cover their faces, yet the more they fled, the clearer their image shone. This was the Temple of Purity.
Farther away, the land erupted again, and roots of colossal trees surged upward like serpents of gold, coiling around the sky. From their trunks, a mighty tree of resplendent light burst forth, its crown stretching into the very heights of heaven. Its branches spread wide, each leaf glowing softly as if a thousand hands were reaching down in blessing. The shadow of the tree fell upon the trembling statues of every being gathered below, wrapping them as though in an embrace. There the Temple of Mercy was founded, radiating warmth so profound that even the most bloodthirsty of hearts faltered, their rage stilled by the trembling of their own souls.
The earth quaked once more, and this time a sea of scarlet treasure surged upward, burning bright like molten crystal. Mountains of ruby, rivers of gold, every jewel gleaming with the light of stars. Yet at the very heart of this blinding ocean of wealth stood only a withered structure: walls cracked and crumbling, its dome coated in dust, pillars on the verge of breaking, a ruin forgotten amidst splendor. It bore no gilded crown, no need for shining light. And yet the longer one gazed, the more it towered above all else. This was the Temple of Temperance, for true glory was never in jeweled crowns, but in the incorruptible strength of simplicity.
A roar thundered as though ten thousand mountains collapsed in unison. From the shattered ground, jagged spires of stone erupted, forming a temple black as night. Around it two opposing forces clashed without pause—one burning hot like rivers of molten fire, the other cold enough to freeze the marrow within bones. They struck against one another in endless bursts, tearing through the air, shredding the very fabric of space. Shards of stone cut across the wind like blades. Gods who stood too close found their skin split open, their blood scattered by the storm, yet the temple at the center stood unmoved, unbroken, not a single crack upon its surface. This was the Temple of Endurance.
And at the last, the heavens themselves split open with a wound that stretched across creation. From it a mountain of black stone ascended, rising higher and higher until it touched the very edge of the firmament. Across its cliffs were smeared stains of dried blood, and along its stairway were the marks of hands, of feet, of desperate claws that had struggled and failed. Every step bore the imprint of bone and sacrifice, carved into the mountain as though by despair itself. The wind howled like a dirge, heavy with the stench of iron and decay. Upon the summit, beyond countless steps of death and life, there stood only a single empty temple. No gold adorned it, no light shone within, only silence waiting for the one strong enough to ascend. This was the Temple of Diligence.
Thus the seven temples revealed themselves together. They stood like seven colossal spears driven into the heart of heaven and earth, pinning the universe in place so it would not fall into nothingness. Their light did more than drive back the darkness. It carved itself into the memory of every witness, branding upon their souls a truth that could not be denied: to touch the throne, one must first bear the chains of their own making.
"The first trial."
Elyndo's voice rang out, solemn and resounding, like the toll of a great bell echoing through the void.
"From among the countless before Me, I shall choose only those deemed worthy to step into the Trial of Humility. Those whose names are not called… shall wait until the next contest."
At his decree, pillars of light engulfed the chosen gods. Their bodies were torn away from the sacred square, wrenched through the air in an instant, until they stood no longer upon the marble floor of the assembly but within a primeval forest, dark and oppressive as the abyss itself.
The air was thick with the breath of beasts. The stench of blood clung to every tree, soaking bark and soil alike. Above, the heavens were strangled by dense canopies, allowing only thin shards of pale light to pierce through, casting the world below into a nightmare of shadow and dread.
Then Elyndo's voice thundered again, heavy as storm clouds, rolling across the wilderness until it filled every corner of the forest.
"Your trial is survival. You shall fight against the endless beasts, break through their siege, and advance ever forward. Whoever reaches the end first, I shall stand as judge, and I shall bestow the reward."
The final echo faded, and in its place came a sudden explosion of sound. The suffocating stillness shattered. From every direction, the earth quaked with the pounding of a thousand footsteps.
Distant roars tore through the forest, monstrous cries that clawed at the heart and rattled the soul, a chorus of beasts that shook the very marrow.
Thoom…Thoom…Thoom
The shadows within the forest stirred. From thickets and ravines, from beneath the earth itself and even from the skies above, the monsters revealed themselves one after another.
Some stood only ten feet tall, their hides thicker than steel, their mouths bristling with jagged fangs.
Others loomed thirty feet high, limbs like pillars, every step they took splitting the ground apart beneath their weight.
In the far distance, titans the size of mountains shifted, and when one raised its arm, the sky itself seemed to vanish beneath its shadow.
There were beasts with wings, shrieking as they tore the clouds asunder, their wingspan whipping storms through the forest below.
Others vomited torrents of fire, searing swaths of woodland to blackened ash.
Still others spewed a corrosive green ichor, steaming as it melted through stone and earth alike, leaving behind yawning pits that smoked like open wounds.
The roars of the beasts fused with the battle cries of the gods, shaping the battlefield into a chaos without end. The god of wind conjured cyclones. The god of flame unleashed infernos. The god of thunder hurled bolts that split the air in blinding arcs. Yet still, blood flowed like rivers.
Bodies of gods and monsters lay scattered across the ground. Some were torn limb from limb, some clawed blindly with eyes burned away by poison, shrieking in despair. Others vanished wholly into the talons of towering fiends, leaving behind no trace but a strangled cry that echoed and was lost. Yet no matter the carnage, the surviving gods clenched their teeth and pressed forward, for in the far distance a radiant beacon shone—the light of the goal, blazing like a lone lighthouse piercing the endless night.
Amid the chaos, two figures blazed brighter than all the rest. Michael, his eyes alight amidst the storm of smoke and fire, brandished his sword of radiance as he shielded those who had fallen around him. And Lucifer, his white wings burning like the sun itself, wielded a blade of searing flame that seemed intent on devouring all of existence.
Lucifer cleaved a massive beast in two, its body splitting apart with a thunderous crash. He turned his head, a confident smile tugging at his lips.
"Michael, let's give it everything we have. As long as one of us reaches the goal, this nightmare will end. That's all it takes."
Michael's breath came heavy, his chest rising and falling as he swung his radiant blade, forcing back a monster that lunged at him. His voice rang steady, unshaken even amid the chaos.
"Agreed. Then let's break through together. But we will not leave anyone behind, Lucifer."
Lucifer glanced at him, eyes narrowing, a spark of disdain flickering within their depths.
"Hmph. Always burdened by useless weights. In this race, only the strong will survive."
In that very instant, the ground convulsed violently. The forest ahead erupted in a deafening blast, trees as thick as pillars hurled skyward like twigs in a storm. From the smoke and ruin emerged a colossal shadow, each step pounding against the earth in waves that shook heaven and soil alike.
It was a beast as vast as a mountain. Every footfall shattered the land beneath it. Its flesh was coarse, black and jagged like volcanic stone, and in its face burned two eyes, red and merciless, blazing like the fires of hell. When it swung its arm, the sky itself fell into darkness.
One of the gods screamed in terror.
"N-no… it's too big… one hand alone could crush hundreds of us!"
The titan opened its maw and roared, a sound that split the heavens. Fire, poison, and choking black smoke burst forth together, a storm of annihilation that sought to sweep every living soul from the forest.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!"
Countless gods broke into a desperate flight. Some cast aside their weapons, others tore off their armor, even ripped the robes from their bodies in frantic hope of distracting the beast. Yet the crimson eyes did not waver, not once did they blink. The creature's jaw gaped wider, and from its throat spewed a torrent of viscous green acid. It hissed and seethed as it struck the ground, and those who fled too late dissolved upon contact, their flesh and bone melting into sludge, leaving behind nothing but stinking pools of decay.
Those who still stood were frozen in terror, their faces drained of blood, their weapons trembling uselessly in their hands. One god, unable to contain the dread boiling inside him, broke down into sobs.
"Ho…How… How can we ever hope to overcome such a monster… we will all die here!"
But then, a voice tore through the shroud of despair, loud and sharp enough to rattle the air itself.
"Raise your weapons and fight! If you do not, every single one of us will die in this place!"
It was Lucifer. His wings blazed with radiant light, his eyes burned like twin suns, and his words cracked like whips against the fragile spirits of the gods. Each syllable was fire driven into their hearts, searing away their fear.
He thrust his arm toward the mountain-sized beast and roared, his voice shaking heaven and earth alike.
"It is vast, but its steps are slow. Scatter and draw its gaze apart. I will find the weakness that hides within its shell, and when I strike, you will pour everything you have into that wound!"
His command resounded like oil poured upon dying embers, and for the first time in that endless night, flames rekindled within the eyes of the gods. The faint spark of defiance began to glow again.
Michael stepped forward, his expression solemn but unshaken. His voice was steady, deep as a war drum, each word carrying the force of iron.
"Very well. I shall carve the first path. The rest of you—unleash every shred of strength that lies within your souls."
Before the echo of his words could fade, Michael surged forward like a blazing star. His sword of light sang through the air and split across the monster's hide, etching a brilliant wound that gleamed even in the suffocating dark. From the cut burst a torrent of foul, tar-black blood, bubbling and smoking as it hit the ground, the stench of poison rising like venomous steam.
The beast bellowed, its roar tearing through the forest like a storm of thunder. Trees splintered, mountains quaked, the very sky seemed to cry out in pain.
Yet under Lucifer's fierce command and Michael's fearless charge, the gods awoke from their despair. Their spirits hardened like steel, their fear turned to fury. The clamor of weapons rang out, answering the howls of the monsters, and the ancient forest became a forge of chaos, a crucible of blood and fire where steel clashed against fang and claw.
Archers drew their bows until the strings screamed, and volleys of arrows streaked upward like a rain of falling stars.
Warriors hefted hammers larger than their own bodies, each strike crashing down upon scales as thick as stone cliffs.
Defenders raised their shields high, interposing themselves before comrades as waves of venom hissed and boiled against their walls of iron.
Mages unleashed storms of sorcery, pillars of flame roaring skyward, glaciers tearing through the ground, bolts of thunder splitting the heavens with blinding light.
The battlefield was no longer despair. It had become a furnace where gods and monsters alike were cast into the fire, where will and power alone would decide who endured and who was reduced to ash.
The battlefield erupted into a storm of madness.
Lucifer descended from the sky like a falling star, his blade of light crashing down upon the monster's nape. His voice roared across the chaos.
"Here! Strike here!"
Michael, below, deflected the beast's thunderous swings. He pressed forward, slipping between its colossal arms, his sword flashing in precise arcs that carved into the joints of its towering limbs.
"Do not let it turn back! Keep pressing it!"
A colossal arrow loosed by the god of the bow pierced into the beast's left eye. It shrieked, its head thrashing wildly, and the entire forest shuddered under the force of its rage.
The beast swung an arm, hurling gods aside like scattered leaves. Then it opened its maw and spewed forth a blazing sphere of fire. The orb blazed crimson, hurtling toward the rear lines like a newborn sun. Heat warped the very air, and trees ignited in an instant. Just as it was about to strike, Michael hurled himself forward like lightning, placing his body between the inferno and his companions.
His knees buckled as the fire engulfed him. The stench of burning flesh rose from the cracks in his shattered armor.
"Haah… haah… haah…"
Lucifer's shout split the battlefield, filled with both fury and disbelief.
"Idiot! What are you doing?! We were about to slay the beast, and you throw yourself in front of those useless wretches instead?!"
Michael gasped for air, his breath ragged, but his eyes still blazed with unshaken light.
"Yes… we are close to victory. But glory cannot belong to us alone. Even if they are not strong, they fought, they endured. We can reach the end together."
"You… you fool…"
Lucifer could not finish the words before the monster roared, its voice a shriek that shattered the skies. It hurled him from its back with a violent shake, and its fury exploded. From its maw and even its pores, flames, venom, and acid burst in a storm, drowning the forest in destruction.
Michael, burned and broken, forced himself upright. His voice was low and strained, yet unyielding.
"Listen… this time we claim victory. All of us."
Lucifer stared at him, anger flaring in his eyes. In his heart he seethed. If I had abandoned this fool and the dead weight clinging to him, if I had gone straight for the end, the throne would already be mine.
He swallowed his rage, his voice cold.
"Then… what is your plan?"
Michael answered without hesitation.
"I severed its limbs and crippled its joints. Now we concentrate every blow there to stop it moving. When it falls, you strike with everything you have at the wound on its neck that you made earlier. We will cut off its head, and the victory will belong to us all."
Having spoken, Michael surged forward again, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Everyone, full assault!"
The gods who could still fight answered in unison. Chants and battle cries rolled across the battlefield like a rising storm.
"Tidal Deluge!"
"Raging Maelstrom!"
"Explosive Flame Tempest!"
"Supreme Thunder!"
"Earth Golem, strike!"
Lucifer leapt, vaulting onto the beast's flank as if riding the wind, his eyes burning with fury and hunger for triumph. He dove toward the vulnerable gap at the neck, swinging his blade in a wild, furious arc that rang against the roar of the world.
But the behemoth would not fall easily. It lashed out, one gargantuan paw seizing at Lucifer while the other tore a tree from its roots and hurled it toward the gods battling farther off. Lucifer slid and darted with predatory grace, slipping clear of crushing grasp and uprooted timber as though dancing through an avalanche.
Michael was not so fortunate. His shoulder and flank were stained with blood. He was hurled back by the force of a strike, his body mangled and rent, and yet he fought to his feet. His eyes flared like twin flames; his hand gripped the sword as if it were an anchor in the heart of the storm. Pain knifed through his entrails, but his will made his steps surer than those who had never tasted the crucible of fire.
"Keep striking until it falls! This battle gives us no choice—kill, or be killed!" Michael roared, his voice thundering across the chaos.
The beast allowed them no respite. It bellowed, a sound like a mountain ripping free, and charged straight at Michael.
"Bastion of Faith!"
Michael raised his shield, and holy radiance burst forth, enveloping his body in a blinding glow. That light braced itself against the monster's catastrophic stomp, a skill that could only be used once in battle, reserved for the moment when everything hung in the balance.
Though torn and bloodied, his strength was magnified by faith. The shield shimmered, his stance unbroken. Every strike from the beast crashed down like the sundering of heaven and earth, yet the brilliance surrounding Michael blazed brighter still, refusing to yield, refusing to break.
Lucifer's voice cut across the chaos, filled with fierce urgency.
"Michael! Its neck is nearly severed! We end it now!"
Michael gritted his teeth, his reply a growl of steel.
"Then let us finish it!"
In that instant, both voices rose together, their roars uniting as one.
"Judgment Strike!"
"Triumphant Light Slash!"
The forest shook with a detonation. The monster's colossal neck split open, severed clean. Its body toppled like a mountain collapsing, the shockwave ripping through the ground. A crimson torrent erupted, blood spilling in rivers that stained the earth.
For a breathless moment there was silence, and then the suffocating weight lifted. Gods fell to their knees, some collapsing in exhaustion, others clutching one another and weeping with disbelief. Against all odds, they had survived.
Lucifer tore his blade free from the beast's sundered throat. His eyes burned, no longer with fury but with ambition, a hunger that glared like fire in the dark. He turned toward Michael, his voice hoarse yet resolute.
"Come. The goal lies just ahead."
Michael's shoulder hung torn, his armor drenched in blood, but he allowed a weary smile to touch his lips.
"Very well. But help me carry the wounded. I want every one of us to cross that gate."
Lucifer's eyes widened. Rage flared across his face, and he shouted with venom.
"Are you mad, Michael? First you risked your life to shield those useless weaklings, and now you ask me to drag them to the end? This temple grants only one seat! I will not waste my time on the feeble!"
He slung his sword across his shoulder and turned away, his back straight, proud, unbending, radiating arrogance with every step.
Michael watched him go. His gaze held no hatred, no accusation, only quiet resolve. He turned instead to those who could not stand. He lifted broken bodies, steadied those missing arms, bore the weight of the crippled. His blood dripped in a steady trail across the ground, yet he did not falter, not once did he let go.
And so, at last, every surviving god crossed together through the shining gate, their battered feet pressing forward, their weary bodies carried by one another, until they stood at the end as one.
A blinding radiance erupted, splitting the sky itself, and from its heart Elyndo appeared. He descended with solemn majesty, his figure suspended in the heavens, his presence too vast to behold. His gaze swept over them all, and when he spoke, his voice rolled like thunder across the void.
"You have done well. I had not expected so many to emerge from this trial alive. Yet as I decreed, the throne may belong to only one. Those who are not chosen shall still receive weapons and armor as their reward."
His eyes fell upon Lucifer.
"Lucifer. You fought with ferocity. You did not waver. The wounds you dealt outweighed those of all others combined. You reached the end before any."
Lucifer raised his head high, pride gleaming in his eyes.
"My thanks, my Lord. I…"
But Elyndo's hand rose, silencing him. The words that followed were cold, sharp as the edge of a blade.
"But you are arrogant. This is the Temple of Humility. You abandoned your companions, caring only for the prize. You are unworthy."
Lucifer's smile died. His face stiffened, his pride shattering into silence.
Elyndo swept his hand, and from the heavens descended a pillar of white light. It fell before Lucifer and took shape, hardening into a weapon wreathed in divine flame.
"Your deeds cannot be denied. This is the only reward that shall be yours."
Lucifer's fingers closed around the hilt, knuckles whitening, veins swelling. His chest tightened as though crushed from within, his eyes darkened beneath the weight of humiliation.
Then Elyndo turned to Michael.
"And you… Michael. Though you did not arrive first, you forgot yourself and placed others above your own life. You sought no glory. You carried no arrogance. It is you who are worthy of this throne."
Michael fell to one knee, trembling, blood still dripping from his wounds. Elyndo laid his hand upon his shoulder. From the seven temples light poured down, converging into a silver torrent, cascading upon him like a heavenly waterfall.
"From this moment, you shall bear the name Michael, Pillar of Humility. You are the first among the seven pillars, the one who carries chains in place of all creation."
The skies shuddered as if struck by a thousand drums. The Temple of Humility ignited with blinding brilliance. Upon its summit, the throne revealed itself, no longer veiled. Michael rose, his body cloaked in divine radiance, and ascended. Every eye was seared by the sight. The gods looked on, awestruck, and the vision carved itself forever into their souls.
Lucifer screamed, his eyes burning crimson, his blade trembling violently in his grip.
"Why?! You said the one who finished first would be chosen! You deceived me!"
Elyndo's reply echoed, deep as the abyss itself.
"I did say so. But this contest was never about speed. It was meant to reveal essence. Only in truth of essence can worthiness be seen. If strength alone determined the world, it would have collapsed long ago."
He spared no further glance for Lucifer. His eyes remained upon Michael, the chosen, and then his form dissolved into light and vanished.
Lucifer was left standing in silence. His chest heaved, his pride shattered, his heart screaming in rage. Blood welled between his fingers as he clenched the divine sword too tightly.
And then, a voice coiled through his mind, smooth and cold as shadow.
"Do you see now? He will never choose you. But I will. You are more deserving than any. Accept me, and I shall grant you the power to claim the throne as your own."
Lucifer trembled. Slowly he raised his head. His eyes blazed, blood-red, drowning in fury and hunger.
Thus, the first seed was sown. Satan had spoken.