The End of War

Bolisi, his body riddled with wounds, led his elite troops in a desperate retreat. At his side stood Minora—the vengeful woman of Migase—watching it all unfold with a chilling smile.

But waiting at the docks were Damerius and Magnoli.

The battle flared once more. Though Damerius's forces numbered only a few dozen, they fought with unyielding valor. Still, Balevad's elites were no ordinary foes—they struck without mercy.

Valtross Gorn fell, a spear impaled through his chest. Kaelthar was slain after his sword snapped in the heat of combat.

But just when the tide seemed hopeless, reinforcements came—Hans and Nakhsa, leading the last of the Migase warriors, launched a vengeful assault from the rear. In a single, furious clash, they crushed Balevad's elites.

Yet Bolisi and Minora escaped. They boarded a small vessel, vanishing across the waters of Blacksand, swallowed by the distant horizon.

The imperial troops could do nothing but collapse to the ground, gasping for breath, their eyes vacant.

Amid the sea of corpses and the silence blanketing the battlefield, only one enemy remained—Billok. His body shattered, his face bloodied, yet life still clung to him.

Rogg dragged the man's broken body across the blood-soaked earth. Each step was heavy—not from exhaustion, but from a fury yet unresolved. With a torn imperial banner, he bound Billok to a tall pole in the center of the ruined city square.

Slowly, the surviving soldiers began to gather. The Dark Legion stood in silence. The battered and weary Migase warriors rose again—their eyes locked on the now helpless Billok. And from among them, a cry of pure heartbreak shattered the stillness.

"Brotheeerrr!!" Brisena screamed, collapsing in grief. Her knees buckled, her body trembled as she saw the lifeless forms of her three brothers—Prince Dorges, Todius, and Neroxius—lying still and cold.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping onto the once-proud faces of her fallen kin. "Why did you betray us... why...?"

In the distance came the clatter of wheels. Xaverius, bloodied and broken, arrived in his wheelchair, accompanied by Zendriot Magnusen. Behind them came Damerius and Magnoli, limping and bruised, their faces dusted with pain and ash. All were present now, to witness the closing chapter of a war that had devoured everything.

Rogg stepped forward, his voice steady, though low.

"People of Migase... those of you who've lost everything—whose hearts have been torn by Billok's evil—you have the right... to strike back."

There were no cheers. Only silence. Then slowly, the people came forward. They weren't soldiers. They were fathers who had lost children, wives who had lost husbands, children who had lost homes. No—they had lost everything. And now, their fury united them.

The first stone was thrown. Then a spear. Cries. Sobs. Screams. Billok's broken body became the target of long-held rage. He shrieked, but no mercy was given.

Among them stood Balaraniyan. His frame small, his eyes filled with trauma—still too young to wield true courage. But Rogg knelt beside him and whispered:

"Go on, child… vengeance can break you. But sometimes… it's also what gives you strength. If that's what it takes for you to stand… do it."

Balaraniyan looked at Billok. His breath trembled. Then, with all the strength his small arms could muster, he lifted a spear—and drove it straight into the man's throat.

Blood erupted. Billok went silent. At last... he was dead.

Balaraniyan broke down in Rogg's arms, sobbing.

"This… this won't heal your wounds," Rogg whispered. "But you can heal—if you keep standing, keep protecting what you love. Don't hope for an easy road. But trust this… your destiny will shine bright—so long as you never stop fighting."

The people of Migase fell to their knees. Billok's body no longer looked human—only the remains of hatred, destroyed by their shared grief.

Rogg stood atop the scorched ruins.

"People of Blacksand!" he roared. "Now is the time to rebuild this city. We are no longer slaves. We are no longer prisoners. We will raise this city again—with our own hands, with our free souls!"

And as if the heavens themselves responded to his cry, a great explosion rocked the city. Flames licked the sky. The old buildings crumbled, consumed in the final scream of a dark era.

Blacksand was destroyed... but it was also reborn. As Rogg had promised: the city would rise again—from ashes, from scars, from the hope that still burned.

Rogg's victory and that of his allies was more than the triumph of sword and courage. It was proof of something greater—that wisdom, strategy, and conviction could bend the very threads of fate, even when outnumbered and outmatched.

But betrayal... betrayal left a wound far deeper than any sword. It could not be forgiven—especially in the heart of an empire, where the lives of millions hinge on a single decision. A single broken trust could crumble an entire civilization.

In the grand military parade at the imperial capital of Whiteheaven, Rogg restored the empire's system with firm resolve. A new banner was raised. The blood debt had been paid in full.

And just ten days after being crowned, Rogg handed the throne over to Damerius—his friend, comrade, and the one leader he truly trusted. A throne he never desired, yet one he fought for in pursuit of a better future.

"This throne is no legacy of pride, let alone a family inheritance," Rogg said as he passed on the crown. "It's a legacy of pain. And now, it's time to begin the healing."

The first project of the New Empire began: the reconstruction of Blacksand from its ruins. Chains of slavery were shattered. A decree of freedom was proclaimed across the land.

.

"Rooooobb!!!""Vuuuxiiiii!!! Get in here—quick!!!" Josia screamed from inside the small house at the edge of the savanna.

Robb and Vuuxi, who were training in the open field, turned their heads instantly. Sweat still glistened on their brows.

"The egg's cracking! It's hatching!!"

They sprinted like the wind. The moment they burst into Josia's house, their breath caught in their chests.

Click…A fine crack snaked across the surface of the massive egg. Then the second egg trembled in response, not wanting to be left behind. Jagged lines spread like lightning.

"Whoa… what kind of head is that?" Robb gasped, horrified yet amazed."A snake?" he muttered. "Don't tell me that's a giant snake?!"

"No… look at the horns," Vuuxi whispered, his eyes wide.

Clack! The first egg split clean in two. The halves tumbled apart, and from within crawled a winged creature, scales blazing red, a long coiled tail trailing behind.

"A dragon…" Josia breathed, his voice barely more than a prayer. "A creature of legend… has returned."

The second egg followed. From it emerged a snow-white dragon—graceful, breathtaking. Its eyes remained closed in darkness, like the first.

"You… you've done it. You've brought back the rarest beings in all existence…" Josia trembled. "Robb, Vuuxi… this is no coincidence."

"Wait… you mean they're really dragons?" Robb asked, his mouth agape.

"Yes," Josia and Vuuxi answered in unison.

"Touch its head… they will only accept one master. If you touch them now, the bond will be sealed forever."

"Huh? You mean… like the Illeum clan legend?" Vuuxi asked.

"Illeum?" Robb frowned in confusion.

"The Illeum were a legendary people," Josia explained. "They once ruled these lands alongside dragons, conquered the Guava Valley, and founded an empire.And… it's possible that their blood runs in your veins."

"But if no Illeum blood claims them, the dragons will grow wild—masterless. One day… they could destroy us all."

"I read an old scroll about this," Vuuxi murmured. "These creatures… need a bond. Or the world will pay a terrible price."

"Then… we can only try," Robb said resolutely.

He stepped forward. The white dragon locked onto him. With a sharp inhale, Robb reached out his hand—

CLACK!"AARRGH!!" Robb screamed as the dragon's jaws bit down on his hand, blood spurting.

"Wha—?! You damn beast! It bit me!!" he cried, panicked.

Josia and Vuuxi burst out laughing.

"Sorry… we forgot to mention. It needs a drop of your blood to bind your fate together," Vuuxi said, barely holding back his laughter.

"You jerks... it almost took off my hand!" Robb growled, glaring at them both.

"Now, place your bleeding hand on its head," Josia instructed.

"Wait—there's another ritual?! You guys better not be messing with me," Robb grumbled, but obeyed anyway.

The moment his blood touched the dragon's head, the creature's eyes shot open—glowing. It leaned into Robb, gently brushing its scaly forehead against his palm.

"It's accepted the bond… You are its parent. Its soulmate," Josia whispered, his eyes misty.

Now it was Vuuxi's turn.

"No," Vuuxi said softly. "I'm not sure. We already have one dragon—Robb's. Maybe the other should go to Brisena… or Rogg…"

"Vuuxi," Robb said, locking eyes with him, full of conviction, "you may be my foster brother, but I've always believed… our blood is the same."

Silence. Then, Vuuxi nodded.

He stepped forward calmly. The red dragon watched him. A bite. Blood. And the moment his hand touched the dragon's head, the creature wrapped Vuuxi in its wings—slowly, protectively.

Josia fought back tears. "This… this is a new era. I… I've witnessed the return of the Illeum with my own eyes."

The dragons stepped out of the house, wings unfurling wide as they felt their first breath of wind. With trembling grace, they flapped… then gently lifted off, learning to fly beneath the clear skies at the foot of Mount Lakhsa.

.

Meanwhile, Rogg and Brisena had reached the peak of Mount Lakhsa.

"BRUUUUUUGHHHHH!"

They both slipped from the cliff edge, tumbling into a hidden cave—landing directly in a pool that cradled a massive black egg.

"Brisena, is… is that a giant egg?" Rogg asked, wide-eyed.

TO BE CONTINUED.