The Last Light

The dawn broke over the horizon, casting a soft glow across the battlefield. The once formidable fortress of Gruter had been reduced to ruins, its towering walls now crumbled and the oppressive darkness that had hung over the land like a shroud slowly dissipating. In the midst of the debris lay Drake, motionless, his body bruised and battered from the final battle. Around him, the few surviving warriors moved through the wreckage, their faces marked with sorrow and exhaustion.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the ground, something remarkable happened. The faint light shimmered over Drake's still form, bathing him in a radiant, golden aura. It was as if the gods themselves had descended, their power reaching out to touch the man who had sacrificed everything to bring down the demon lord.

Far above, the heavens seemed to crack open, and a gentle wind began to stir the air. The Blade of Shadows, which had lain dormant beside Drake, began to flicker with light—not the dark, consuming energy it had once exuded, but something purer, something almost… divine. The weapon, once cursed with the power of destruction, was now cleansed, its bond with its master restored in his final moments.

The survivors of the battle gathered around, watching in awe. The sky was clearing for the first time in ages, the eternal red haze lifting as a new day began. Some fell to their knees, offering prayers of thanks to the gods, while others stood silently, watching as Drake's body became enveloped in a peaceful light.

One by one, those who had fought beside Drake—those who had seen him as both warrior and friend—paid their respects. His story had already become legend among them, the tale of the man who had faced down the greatest evil the world had ever known. But now, it seemed that his journey had come to an end. As the last of the light faded, the earth seemed to sigh in relief, as though the world itself was acknowledging Drake's sacrifice.

The moment stretched into eternity, a silence descending upon the scene, broken only by the soft rustling of the wind. And then, without warning, the light surrounding Drake's body flared one last time, brighter than ever before.

Suddenly, the light receded, leaving only the faintest glow on his skin. But something was different. Drake stirred, his chest rising with a shallow breath. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first, but then clear. He was alive.

Gasps filled the air as those around him realized what had happened. Somehow, against all odds, the gods had spared him. Whether it was the power of the Blade of Shadows, his indomitable will, or divine intervention, Drake had returned from the brink of death.

Weak but determined, Drake slowly sat up, his body aching from the wounds he had sustained. His friends rushed to him, their faces filled with a mix of disbelief and joy. He smiled faintly, though the weight of everything he had lost still lingered in his eyes.

"The world is safe," he murmured, his voice hoarse but steady. "But the battle isn't over. There's always more to protect."

And as he stood, the survivors gathered closer, knowing that while the war with Gruter had ended, the world still needed its hero.