CHAPTER 1: Shadows Stirring

The rain fell in a relentless torrent, soaking the shattered remnants of the village. What once had been a quaint settlement—its cobblestone streets bustling with life, its homes standing proud against the wilderness—was now a hollow shell. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of burnt wood. Fires sputtered weakly in the rain, unable to consume what little remained.

At the center of the carnage stood Nyroth Solvain, his sharp crimson eyes scanning the devastation. He moved like a shadow through the rain, his black cloak trailing behind him. Despite the downpour, his presence radiated a commanding, almost otherworldly aura. Around him, the Guardians of the Veil stood in silent vigilance, their weapons gleaming faintly under the overcast sky. They had come too late to save the village, but they had arrived just in time to stem the tide of darkness threatening to spread beyond it.

Before the main horde had been wiped out, Nyroth had captured the largest demon among them—a hulking, misshapen creature with spiked limbs and a gnarled, shadowy face. It now knelt before him, subdued and bound by radiant chains of light. The rain hissed where it struck the demon's sizzling, charred skin.

Nyroth stepped forward, his crimson eyes locking with the demon's hollow, black gaze. "You knew you wouldn't win this fight. Why attack a place of no strategic value? What are you hiding?"

The demon's voice was a guttural rasp, laced with malice. "You think... you've won, Guardian? This village, these... lives you cherish, they are nothing. Ashes for the pyre."

Nyroth's tone remained cold and measured. "Answer me, or I'll do far worse than send you back to hell, demon."

The demon let out a wet, hacking laugh. "You can delay... but you cannot stop it. The Veil will shatter. Hell rises again. And when he is finally free, not even you, Nyroth Solvain, will be able to save this world."

A ripple of unease spread among the Guardians at the mention of the Ruler of Hell. Nyroth's expression remained unreadable, but the intensity in his gaze sharpened. "Then consider this your last chance to warn him. When I'm done with him, there will be nothing left to rise."

The demon snarled, but its bravado wavered under Nyroth's unyielding stare. "You will burn in his shadow," it spat, before dissolving into black mist as Nyroth's chains crushed its essence.

The air grew heavier, the rain pounding harder as if mirroring the weight of the demon's words.

The Guardians regrouped after the interrogation, scanning for any remaining threats. The village seemed quiet now, but the sense of unease lingered. Ilara, ever the pragmatist, broke the silence. "The demon wasn't lying. Something big is coming. And soon."

Nyroth's voice cut through the rain. "We'll be ready. The Veil holds—for now. But this was no ordinary attack."

Before the words could settle, a low rumble echoed across the village. From the shadows of a ruined barn, a second wave of demons emerged, their twisted forms glistening in the rain. These were larger, fiercer than the first, their eyes gleaming with malevolent intelligence.

"They were stalling us," Ilara growled, tightening her grip on her shield.

Nyroth raised a hand, signaling his lieutenants to hold their positions. "No. They were baiting us." His voice was cold, calculating.

The demons surged forward, their claws scraping against the wet stone. The Guardians sprang into action, meeting the charge with practiced precision. Blades clashed, magic flared, and the air filled with the unearthly howls of dying demons.

For a moment, it seemed the Guardians would overwhelm the attackers. But as the last demon fell, a sharp cry from behind caught their attention. Another group of demons, larger and more savage, had circled around and now closed in from the rear.

The Guardians whirled, weapons raised, but before they could react, the air grew heavy, thick with an oppressive energy. The rain stopped mid-fall, droplets hanging motionless in the air. The clouds above began to part, revealing a blood-red sky.

All eyes turned to Nyroth. His crimson gaze burned with terrifying intensity as he stepped forward. His deep voice resonated through the stillness, calm yet commanding. "Enough."

The world seemed to hold its breath as Nyroth's eyes blazed brighter. A ripple of energy surged outward from him, a crimson wave that bent the light and shadows around it.

Crimson Veil was unleashed.

The attack was an awe-inspiring spectacle. The crimson light from Nyroth's eyes surged forth, engulfing the advancing demons. Their forms froze mid-attack as the energy invaded their minds, burning away their will and reducing their souls to ash. The oppressive force of Nyroth's will was absolute—unyielding and merciless.

The once darkened sky now glowed faintly with the remnants of the light he unleashed. The battlefield fell silent, the demons lying in lifeless heaps, their bodies crumpled as if reality itself had rejected their existence.

As the crimson glow faded, the rain resumed, though it seemed softer now, gentler.

The lux astra users among the Guardians, stared at Nyroth in stunned silence, their expressions a mix of awe and reverence. Even they, masters of light, could scarcely fathom the power their leader had just displayed.

The nox astra users, exchanged glances before one of them spoke up with a smirk. "Well, thanks for stealing our kills boss."

A ripple of quiet laughter passed through them, but even their humor couldn't mask the deep respect they felt for Nyroth.

Nyroth turned to his clan, his expression calm but sharp. "This was no ordinary attack. Something stirs beyond the Veil. We need answers—and fast."

With that, the Guardians regrouped, their minds weighed with questions. The rain continued to fall as they set out, leaving the broken village behind. None of them spoke, but each knew the same truth: this was only the beginning.