Chapter 7: The Blood of Titans

The sky cracked open — and from its wounds, giants returned.

On the black plains of Draemor's Maw, where the ground pulsed like a dying heart, Raizen's forces faced their most harrowing trial yet: the resurrected Titans, ancient behemoths forged in the first age of the gods. They had once been protectors of the Crown of Shadows… and now, they had returned to ensure its will was fulfilled — at any cost.

The first Titan arrived without a sound, its arrival marked only by the tremble of oceans and the silence of birds. Towering, plated in obsidian and starlight, it moved like a continent come alive. Then came the others: five in total. Each bearing a name lost to time — and a shard of forgotten divinity.

Turras the Hollow Fang, who devoured armies whole.

Naelra the Ashmother, wrapped in molten bone.

Zerak-Thon, whose heart beat once every hour, and with each beat brought death.

Velkar, the chained storm.

And the last: Kaerion, who had once bowed to no god — until the Crown bound him.

Raizen's forces were dwarfed, both in power and in belief.

The Titans were not simply monsters — they were will made flesh. Every blow they struck wasn't just brute force, but a memory of divine order, of a time when mortals feared their place in the world.

Raizen fought atop Naelra's back, leaping between ribs of lava, dodging spears of ash and flame. His strikes barely chipped the Titan's hide. And yet, with each wound, the creature bled light — a golden ichor that screamed with the voices of the long-dead.

Solas, the Fallen God, fought beside him — not as a savior, but as a fellow condemned. Together, they brought down Velkar, the storm-wrapped colossus, at the cost of burning half the sky.

Elsewhere, Raizen's crew faced their own battles:

Nara lost her arm to Turras's jaw but held her ground with nothing but rage and flame.

Kirin summoned the winds of her ancestors to blind Zerak-Thon, sacrificing her voice forever.

Captain Izo, once a traitor, gave his life to pierce Kaerion's heart — and in death, earned back Raizen's trust.

But the most haunting truth came after the battle.

When the Titans fell, their bodies did not crumble. They whispered. Each corpse spoke a fragment of prophecy — not of doom, but of design. They had not returned to destroy the world…

They had returned to prepare it.

"The Crown stirs because the world must choose," Naelra rasped with her dying breath."One will rise. One must fall. The throne cannot remain empty."

Raizen stood over the wreckage of gods, the ichor of Titans soaking into his boots. Their blood burned cold — and in it, he saw visions of what was coming:

A final convergence.A war not just for power, but for the shape of existence itself.

The battle was won.

But the war?

The war had just remembered his name.

And the world would bleed before it forgot.

END OF CHAPTER7