As the apocalyptic duel between the Ivory Dragon and the Beast of Twilight raged on, tearing the firmament asunder with every clash, Klaus exhaled slowly. His eyes shimmered with a cold, calculating light as he raised his hand and summoned Hassan.
Above them, Noctis and Sevirax tore into each other with the fury of fallen gods, their wrath so vast and elemental that the heavens themselves seemed ready to shatter. Each clash of claws and abilities resounded like the toll of judgment. as if the world recoiled from the sheer violence of their conflict and The sky itself wept sparks, bleeding brilliance.
Klaus spared the battle only a glance. Then he turned to Hassan and gave a simple nod—silent understanding passing between master and servant. Without another word, Klaus leapt into the air and vanished into the smoke, his path diverging from that of the Cohort.
Sunny had departed to fulfill his mission. Kai had gone to play his part. But Klaus? Klaus had no intention of dancing to the tune of the cohort's schemes. Why should he?
He desired more than just ascension.
He wanted to drain everything he could from this nightmare.
Left behind, Hassan watched the fading silhouette of his master disappear. Then he stepped forward.
The air trembled.
Crimson light ignited within his eyes like a dying star roaring back to life. his hand gripping a staff wrought from pure, unfiltered darkness. That same abyssal power flowed from his form in liquid waves, heavy with malice and hunger.
And then he rose.
With a single step, the First Son of the Nether ascended into the sky and stood upon a platform of tangible darkness, his very presence warping the light around him. The heavens seemed to hold their breath.
Then he roared—an earth-shattering, soul-wrenching sound that tore through the world like the cry of an ancient horror reborn:
"LIGHT WAS NEVER THE RIVAL OF DARKNESS! AND THE SUN—THE SUN SHALL ALWAYS BE SWALLOWED BY THE MAJESTY OF THE ABYSS!"
His proclamation reverberated through the sky like the tolling of a divine war drum.
And then the world began to change.
Darkness, thick as obsidian ink and alive with ancient malice, erupted upward in a tidal wave. It bled from Hassan like spilled ichor, writhing and coiling through the air with balletic grace and predatory hunger. What began as a whisper became a storm—an ever-rising pillar of darkness that reached toward the burning sky.
The sun, once high and arrogant in its throne of cerulean, was bitten into by the advancing tide—devoured mouthful by mouthful. Darkness consumed its brilliance, cloaking the sky in a total eclipse. Where sunlight once reigned, now only a pale ghost remained—a halo of warmth, fading and forgotten.
Hassan had rewritten the rules.
Sevirax, the Ivory Dragon, shone brightest beneath the sun's gaze. Noctis, the Beast Of Twilight, drew power from lunar grace. But now, there was neither sun nor moon.
Only Darkness reigned.
The advantage was shattered. No longer did the Ivory Dragon hold dominion over the battlefield. And while Noctis gained no strength from this eclipse, he no longer faced a foe basking in his full transcendental might.
Balance had shifted.
Far above, both dragon and sorcerer paused, momentarily distracted by the unnatural darkness seeping across the sky like a poison.
Then Sevirax let loose a scream of fury that made the islands tremble. With wings that blotted out the heavens, he surged into the darkened sky, desperate to burn it away. Yet as he rose, thousands of motes of moonlight surged to meet him.
They danced around the ascending dragon, lashing at him, biting into his celestial hide. Each spark of pale light etched pain into his scales, dragging streaks of golden blood from the great wyrm's form.
Below, the people of the Ivory City had poured into the streets like a flood. Thousands upon thousands stood beneath the eclipsed sky, staring upward in reverent silence.
They were beautiful—eerily perfect, their bronze-gold skin radiant even in the fading light, draped in immaculate white garments that whispered with every movement.
Now, every one of them watched with wide, unblinking eyes. Awe and terror mingled in their expressions. Fear shimmered in their wide eyes, but so too did faith.
Soft at first.
Then louder.
A tide of desperate prayer.
"May the Sun shine upon you, Lord Sevirax…"
"Bless us, O Ivory Dragon…"
"…Protect us!"
"Protect us!"
Their voices rose into the darkening heavens like smoke from a burning altar, a hymn of fear and faith offered to a god that might no longer hear them.
And indeed, the sun no longer listened.
Above it all, locked in a sky now swallowed by the abyss, the Ivory Dragon and the Mad Sorcerer warred like mythic titans—one fighting to preserve the light of a fading sun, the other to drown it forever in abyss.
People's prayers rose like a tidal wave—an ocean of voices crashing upward into the heavens, laced with desperation, devotion, and dread. They battered into the maddened beast above, each whispered plea a needle driving deeper into the fractured soul of the dragon.
The Ivory Lord howled—a sound wrought from pain and sorrow—as threads of divine radiance pierced him again and again, each one carving rivers of molten blood across his once-pristine scales.
Klaus remembered what Noctis had once told him about the noble, valiant, and unfathomable Sevirax. That the Ivory Dragon had always been the wisest of them all… and yet, the one closest to ruin.
He had resisted Hope—the Demon of Desire—longer than any other Chain Lord. But in doing so, he had denied himself the slow adaptation that others had gained through suffering. His will had been like steel, unbending for centuries. And so, when it finally broke… it shattered completely.
The death of the Sun Prince had been the final weight upon a soul already worn thin.
In a single breathless instant, centuries of suppressed agony, duty, and self-loathing surged through him like a dam collapsing under the weight of its own burden. Sanity—long held sacred—was devoured by the flood.
Noctis had said something else, too. That Sevirax bore love and hatred for his people in equal measure. They were his joy and his chain. A burden wrapped in gold. He was bound by their faith, their reverence, their utter dependency—a prison more unyielding than any forged by steel.
Below the carnage, the people of the Ivory City raised their trembling hands to the heavens, their faces awash in pale terror:
"Protect us!"
"Protect us!"
And then, in the next moment, came a roar—ragged and mournful—as the dragon took another grievous wound. Crimson pearls rolled down his ivory hide like tears.
Sevirax twisted in the skies, his fractured gaze snapping toward his elusive foe. In a breath of wrath, he unleashed a storm of obliterating flame.
But his enemy was too clever. Noctis had carefully placed himself between the dragon and the crowded city below, his every movement orchestrated with cold intent. Perhaps he hoped to use the mortals as a shield… or perhaps he merely wished to tempt the dragon into damnation.
And his cruel trap worked.
The cascade of white fire missed its mark and crashed down upon the city.
In an instant, thousands were incinerated—transformed to ash where they stood. The grand square erupted into a vision of hell. The very stones melted, flowing like rivers of fire, while screams tore through the air and were silenced by death.
Those who survived the first wave ran. But there was nowhere to run. The inferno encircled them on all sides.
That—
That was how Sevirax answered their prayers.
Suspended in the skies, the dragon froze. His golden, bestial eyes widened, staring down at the carnage. Horror flickered within their molten depths.
Klaus could see it—an internal battle erupting within the broken soul of the ancient beast.
For a fleeting moment, the light of reason shimmered in his gaze.
Then—
It was gone.
The madness returned.
Unshackled from guilt, untethered from reason, the Ivory Dragon roared once more and loosed another wave of cataclysmic fire. Noctis suffered a glancing blow… and several more streets were swallowed by flames.
Klaus narrowly avoided the inferno, his form turning incorporeal as the firestorm reduced the people around him to ash.
The city burned.
And Noctis smiled.
His trap had worked.
Yet Sevirax, even weakened, remained a terrifying force.
Gritting his teeth, Klaus raised his gaze skyward. His pupils, cracked like shattered gemstones, dilated as the world bled with color and madness. Every spectrum danced before him, chaos folding into clarity.
In his hand, Devourer coalesced—its form that of a dark ring. Runes writhed in air like living things, and a familiar hunger pulsed in its heart.
He glanced at its inscription:
Enchantment: [Hunger]
[First Slot: Lightning]
[Second Slot: ???]
[Third Slot: Seed of Life]
[Fourth Slot: Gigantification]
[Fifth Slot: ???]
[Sixth Slot: Swamp]
[Seventh Slot: Temple of Astral Pain]
With a deranged grin splitting his lips, Klaus slipped between dimensions—his body flickering in and out of reality until he reached a pale door of celestial light. It pulsed like a heartbeat, and without hesitation, he stepped through.
High above, the Ivory Dragon exhaled smoke, his frenzied eyes hunting for his tormentor. But instead of Noctis… he found a young man standing just before his colossal golden eye. A grin carved across the youth's bloodstained face, and from his gaze, crimson tears bled like liquid rubies.
Then—
Everything changed.
The world twisted.
Reality bent.
Sevirax's consciousness was yanked from his body and flung into another realm.
He blinked.
The skies were gone.
The fire, the blood, the screams… all gone.
Instead, a vast marble hall spread before him—silent, shimmering with haunting light. The ground cracked and trembled as something divine began to rise.
A statue—monumental and mournful—emerged from the earth.
A woman, carved in sacred stone, veiled in sorrowful robes. Her eyes were closed in eternal grief. Her chest was torn open, and within it pulsed a crystalline heart aglow with emerald fire. One hand cradled the burning soul. The other held a long nail, poised to drive it deep into her essence.
Beneath her feet, Klaus stood. His expression twisted into a cruel, giddy delight. Arms wide, he greeted the dragon:
"Welcome… to the Temple of Astral Pain, Lord Sevirax."
The dragon did not hesitate. He had no patience for riddles or illusions.
Sevirax roared and unleashed a tide of annihilating flame. The temple ignited, swallowed by divine fire—stone vaporized, light shattered, and Klaus was consumed.
As he burned, the young man's laughter rang out. His voice, flayed by agony and exultation, whispered through the inferno:
"Kill me as many times as you want…"
"…I already won."
***
And this was it! Noctis and Sevras really went wild, huh?
How was Hassan's assist? My boy is going wild in war, really.
What do you think Klaus's plan is? What will happen? Well, we see soon.
I think everything went well. And plan was flawless. First giving Advantage to Noctis and than taking advantage from Sevras. But plan isn't completed yet so we see how things will develop.
Glad you like story and thanks for your support.
Enjoy!
:)
***