The city of Elaria trembled under the relentless assault.
The sky was choked with black smoke and fire. Demonic siege magic crashed like thunder against the golden barrier Jareth had left behind. For days it had held strong. But now—cracks spiderwebbed across its radiant surface, pulsing and groaning like the final breaths of a dying star.
A piercing blast shattered part of the western quadrant. Demons surged in through the breach like a swarm of locusts. The people screamed. Children cried in their mothers' arms, priests clutched their relics, and the city guard scrambled to respond.
Captain Rurik barked orders, his voice ragged from fatigue. "Formations! Push them back! Hold the line at the breach!"
His 2,000 soldiers, once full of resolve, were thinning fast. Blood stained their armor. The demons never stopped coming.
Inside the central hall of the sanctuary, Nerina's hands glowed a soft pink as she hovered over Lyra's broken body. Her little sister hadn't moved in hours. Her breathing was shallow. Every second she remained unconscious tore deeper into Nerina's heart.
Her mana was nearly gone.
"If I stop... she might not survive," she whispered to herself, biting down tears.
She could unleash one final spell. A holy explosion—she could take down a thousand demons. But it wouldn't matter. There were tens of thousands.
She was trapped.
Her eyes darted toward the barrier, feeling the tremors ripple through the earth. The people... her sister... it was all slipping away.
Explosions echoed from the outer wall. One of the smaller cracks had given way, and a group of lesser demons slipped through, clawing into homes and setting fire to carts and food stores. Screams of terror broke out as citizens ran to escape.
A squad of archers tried to hold them off, but they were overrun.
Nerina felt the light in her heart faltering.
Then—
A burst of wind.
A sudden silence.
High above the Tower of Elaria, space itself twisted. A brilliant fracture opened like a tear in the heavens. From within it came a presence so overwhelming, so divine, that even the demons paused.
A Voidgate.
And through it stepped a figure cloaked in radiance.
"NO... no... it can't be!" one of the demon generals stammered.
The sky itself seemed to kneel.
Jareth, in his full Godform, floated above the city. Scales shimmered across his skin like molten gold. Wings of light flared from his back. His eyes burned with an unshakable fire.
His presence alone pushed the smoke from the air.
Nerina gasped, her breath caught in her throat. "He made it..."
Tears streamed down her face.
Jareth looked over the city he swore to protect, his voice thundering across the battlefield:
"The Ruler of Elaria has returned!"
"You filthy diabolic creatures... You think overwhelming numbers make you strong? You think terrorizing the innocent makes you powerful?"
His wings expanded, the divine aura erupting around him.
"Let me remind you what power truly looks like!"
The demon horde roared, trying to suppress their fear with rage. They charged—thousands of them, determined to drown him in black.
Jareth raised his sword, now pulsing with both Bahamut's blessing and the souls he had claimed.
His eyes glowed like suns.
He slashed downward.
A vertical crescent of divine light erupted from his blade. It ripped through the battlefield with apocalyptic force. One third of the demon army vanished in a scream of ash and light.
The air grew silent.
The remaining demons faltered. Their courage wavered. And then— they broke.
They fled.
But mercy was not on the wind today.
Jareth's eyes narrowed. He raised his sword again. "No more second chances."
Another slash.
Another wave of annihilation.
The battlefield cleared. Nothing remained but silence and glowing embers. The skies over Elaria turned clear.
Jareth lifted his arm high, sword pointed toward the heavens.
The people of Elaria burst into cheers.
"All hail Bahamut and his Champion!"
"Praise the Goddess Astoria for our hope!"
"Jareth Dragonheart! The Flame of Elaria!"
In that moment, it felt as though time itself bowed to him.
Jareth turned and descended. He moved swiftly to the sanctuary where Nerina still clutched Lyra.
He knelt, scooping both sisters into his arms.
Nerina flushed, caught between tears and flustered surprise. "W-We're fine... now."
"You're together again," Jareth said softly. "I kept my promise."
He carried them to the healing tower, a structure meant to restore stamina and mend surface wounds. It wasn't a miracle, but it was enough. Enough for now.
The war wasn't over.
But Elaria had survived another day.
As the sunlight returned and touched the sacred streets of the city, hope, once faint, now burned like fire in every heart.
And high above, the Tower pulsed with a holy light
A sudden light shimmered in front of Jareth. The warmth of eternity coalesced into form—Astoria, Goddess of Time, stepped through the veil of dimensions.
Her hair floated in a breeze that defied the still air, her voice echoing through space and soul. "My son, you have brought light to this sacred land once more. But your work is not yet complete."
Jareth stood tall, cradling the sisters as he faced the divine presence.
Astoria lifted her hand.
Time shimmered.
Wounds reversed, crumbled homes restored, and the fallen soldiers on Elaria's walls stirred as time curled around them and brought them back.
The people gasped in awe.
"I will rewind time once more," she said, "but you must return to the second tower—the one where you defeated Romelo. There, too, I shall breathe life back into those who fell."
She nodded, radiant and serene. "The souls that were not absorbed—or those released from the demons you've slain—can still be saved. I can open the Voidgate as long as the lands are in our hands."
Jareth turned to the sky, ready to leap once more.
"Then open it," he said. "Let's bring them back"