They say that, many ages ago, when the earth still bled and the sky wept ashes, a man emerged.He was neither a king nor a god. He was merely a warrior.
While armies fell before incarnate horror, and cities crumbled into dust in the wake of the God of Ruin, it was he who raised his sword.It was he who defied Delgron — the eternal, the immortal, the destroyer of ages.
There was no hope.No prophecy, no fate had chosen him.And yet, he went.
And on the field where even the gods fell silent, his blade shone brighter than a thousand suns.With the strength of all humanity coursing through his arms, he struck a single blow that tore through the god's chest — sealing the end of ruin.
But victory always demands its price.And the warrior who stood against the end of the world did not live to see the new dawn.
His body fell amidst the wreckage.Where his soul rests, none can say.
Yet where the soil remains fertile and the wind blows free, his name is still heard — whispered through the forests, carried in the legends told by campfires, and sung in the ballads of bards:
Arial Blake, the Hero of Ashes.The one who died… so the world could live.