Forged for War

The Goddess's Salvation: The Divine War Begins

Rowan gave a slight nod, then took a deep breath, gathering the remnants of his divine faith energy. Standing beside Lilia, he reached out toward the ominous black door. As the power surged from within him, the door responded, glowing with an ethereal radiance.

The moment their hands touched its surface, the entire space around them blurred, as if the world itself had momentarily shattered. A heartbeat later, they found themselves stepping through the threshold, safely emerging on the other side.

Back in the dimly lit chamber, a hooded figure draped in flowing black robes arrived. A chilling aura radiated from them, a palpable darkness swirling at their feet. Their eyes swept the empty space, taking in the absence of the one they had come for. Their brow furrowed.

"She's gone…?" The voice was cold, a mixture of intrigue and frustration."This isn't possible. The Blessed Goddess of the Ancients should have had two days left at most… Could she have perished already?"

Doubt flickered through their shadowed gaze. After scanning every inch of the chamber, they finally let out a slow sigh, shaking their head. There was no sign of her, no trace left behind.

With a final glance at the empty room, the hooded figure turned, their silhouette merging with the darkness before vanishing into the void.

After a long and grueling journey, Rowan and Lilia finally arrived at the heart of the Radiant Church.

Summoning Raymond to his chamber, Rowan wasted no time getting to the point.

"Raymond," he said, his voice firm, "I want you to start preparing for a grand celebration."

Raymond blinked in surprise. "A celebration, my lord?"

"Yes." Rowan's eyes flicked toward Lilia, who stood gracefully by his side, her presence luminous even in the candlelit room. "A wedding. I want it to be grand, joyful, a spectacle worthy of the entire Holy Light Church."

For a moment, Raymond was speechless. His lord had always been a man of duty, consumed by responsibilities, his mind preoccupied with strategy, war, and faith. Now, he was talking about a celebration? A wedding? Did this mean he was finally ready to enjoy life beyond the battlefield?

Snapping out of his thoughts, Raymond straightened and bowed deeply. "Understood, my lord. I will make sure it is a ceremony that will be remembered for ages. Everyone shall know of your joy and triumph."

With a sharp nod, Rowan dismissed him, his gaze shifting toward Lilia. There was a soft smile on her lips, and though traces of her past struggles lingered in her eyes, a newfound light glowed within them. Her strength was returning, the divine energy he had shared working its magic. A soft color had returned to her once-pale cheeks, and she stood with an elegance that befit the ancient goddess she was.

She placed a hand on her stomach, her fingers trembling slightly. Then, she lifted her gaze to Rowan, eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions.

"It seems," she murmured, her voice a mixture of resignation and newfound hope, "that I won't be able to leave you, even if I wanted to. I never imagined I would be bound to you like this… but perhaps fate has other plans."

Rowan smiled, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. He reached out and gently took her hand.

"I promised you, didn't I? You will regain your former glory, Lilia," he vowed, his golden eyes burning with determination. "As long as I am here, I will not allow you to suffer again."

Lilia held his gaze, her heart pounding. The warmth of the divine energy still coursed through her veins, a testament to the unexplainable power Rowan wielded. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope flickered within her. The possibility of reclaiming her place among the gods was no longer a mere dream—it was within reach.

She exhaled slowly, nodding. "Then, I will hold you to that promise."

—

The journey back to the Holy Light Church was long and arduous, but eventually, they arrived. The grand halls of the church were decked in dazzling banners of gold and white, the light of divine blessings reflecting off the polished marble floors. Rowan wasted no time. Summoning Raymond, he got straight to business.

"Raymond, I want a wedding," Rowan announced, his voice filled with quiet determination. "Prepare everything. Make it grand, make it glorious—I want a celebration that will be remembered for generations."

Raymond's eyes widened in shock. Rowan had always been consumed with the affairs of the church, never giving much thought to personal indulgences. Could it be that he had finally decided to live for himself? To love?

Catching himself, Raymond quickly straightened his posture and bowed. "Rest assured, my lord, it will be a spectacle to rival even the grandest celebrations in the empire. Everyone shall witness the joy of this moment."

With that, he departed, his mind already racing through arrangements for the grandest wedding the Light Church had seen in ages.

Time flowed like a river. The celebration was indeed as magnificent as promised, a festival of light that the Holy See would talk about for years to come. Yet even as Rowan basked in the happiness of his union with Lilia, greater events loomed on the horizon.

The calm before the storm would not last forever.

Before long, a troubling revelation shook the foundations of Rowan's newfound peace—both Evelyn and Lilia were with child. A rare occurrence, a divine omen, or perhaps a twist of fate, Rowan couldn't tell. But he knew one thing for certain. His responsibilities had doubled.

Yet, there was no time to dwell on personal matters. The long-awaited battle with the Dark Alliance loomed ever closer. With only days to prepare, Rowan took swift action, assembling his forces at the gates of the Radiant Holy Church before leading them toward their destined battlefield—Apocalypse City.

After days of tireless travel, the army finally reached the battleground. No sooner had they set foot on the sacred land than Rowan called for Black, his trusted commander.

"Black, our soldiers need rest. They must be in peak condition when the battle begins," Rowan commanded. "Organize shifts for their recovery. Make sure our defenses are unshakable—I don't want a single blind spot in our camp's perimeter."

Black nodded, his expression solemn. "Understood, my lord. I will see to it personally."

"Also," Rowan continued, his gaze sharp with determination, "we must be ready for any setbacks. Ensure that our supply lines remain uninterrupted. If we lose access to resources in the heat of battle, our position will be compromised. Double-check our escape routes—walk them yourself if needed. We need to be certain that, should things turn dire, we have a way out."

Black understood the weight of these words. A single misstep in preparation could spell disaster. He thumped his fist over his chest and responded resolutely, "I swear, my lord. It will be done."

As preparations began, Rowan stood at the edge of the camp, gazing toward the distant silhouette of Apocalypse City—the frontline of their war against the Dark Alliance.

He took a deep breath. The final battle was upon them. And no matter the cost, he would ensure that the light would not fall into darkness.