Zorath raised his wand, chanting in a twisted tongue that echoed through the sky, summoning a towering magic circle of pulsating crimson light. His eyes gleamed with malice as he sneered at the crumbling capital. “Drakhelm will fall,” he hissed, his voice a dark whisper that carried over the battlefield.

But before the spell could unleash its devastation, a blinding beam of light shot through the air, shattering the magic circle into fragments. Zorath's eyes widened in disbelief as the remnants of his spell dissipated into the sky.

From the heavens, Thorne Emberheart descended, his wings of radiant light spreading wide, casting a brilliant glow over the battlefield. His white armor gleamed, reflecting the midday sun, and his silver wand pulsed with the power of pure mana. In that moment, he looked like an angelic warrior, standing in stark contrast to the demonic monstrosity before him.

"Zorath!" Thorne’s voice boomed across the battlefield like a crack of thunder, sharp and commanding. "You and your twisted sect have brought nothing but ruin and darkness to this kingdom. This chaos ends here."

Zorath grinned, a dark, predatory smile twisting his face. “Light Marshal,” he spat the title with disdain.

With a deafening roar, Zorath’s demonic beast charged, its massive claws tearing through the air. Each step caused the ground to quake, and its crimson eyes burned with unholy fury. With a deafening roar, Zorath’s demonic beast charged, its massive claws tearing through the air. The demonic beast roared in fury at the sight of the Light Marshal. Its eyes burned with hatred, and it opened its maw to unleash a vicious red beam, thick with corrosive energy. The beam hurtled toward Thorne, a wave of death that disintegrated everything in its path.

But the Light Marshal was unmoved. He raised his wand, and a radiant shield of light formed around him. The red beam collided with the shield, but instead of breaking through, it dispersed, its energy scattered like smoke in the wind.

In a blink, Thorne vanished from his position in the sky and reappeared directly in front of the demonic beast’s face. His movement was so fast that it seemed as if he had simply teleported. With a swift motion, he pointed his wand at the creature’s forehead, and a glowing seal of light appeared on its skin. The seal expanded, and from it, thousands of glowing chains shot out, wrapping around the beast’s limbs, wings, and body. The chains constricted, binding the creature in place.

The beast howled in rage, its immense body thrashing violently against the chains, but the bonds of light held firm. Zorath, sensing the danger, leapt from the beast’s back just as the chains tightened around it. His dark robes fluttered as he landed on the ground, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the Light Marshal. His eyes glowing with dark energy as he summoned a black vortex of shadows in his hand. “You think chains can hold my creature.”

Before he could react, Thorne appeared behind him, his wand pointed directly at Zorath’s back. But Zorath was fast, casting a dark spell that summoned a massive, demonic claw from the ground. The claw, dripping with corrosive energy, slashed at the Light Marshal, aiming to tear him apart.

To Zorath’s shock, the claw passed right through Thorne as if he were made of light. Before Zorath could recover, the Light Marshal summoned a sword of pure light, its edge sharp enough to cut through even the toughest magical barriers. With a single slash, he severed Zorath’s arm from his body.

Zorath howled in pain, but within moments, his severed arm reattached itself, dark magic swirling around the wound.

Zorath hissed in frustration. “Damn you!”

Thorne’s eyes narrowed in understanding. “A demonic clone,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. “So, you’re not even here in your real body.”

Zorath’s grin returned, feral and menacing. “You’ll have to do better than that, Light Marshal. I have the power of Noctara behind me.” Zorath snarled, his anger flaring. Dark magic surged from his body as he prepared another spell.

Thorne snapped, his voice laced with icy determination. “You’ve already lost.” In the blink of an eye, he summoned dozens of glowing light arrows that hovered around him, each one pulsating with divine energy. With a sharp command, he released them, and the arrows flew with unerring precision toward Zorath.

The demonic mage raised his hands to defend himself, summoning a shield of shadows, but the light arrows pierced through it as if it were made of paper. Each arrow struck with deadly accuracy, tearing through his dark defenses and ripping apart his form. Zorath’s body disintegrated into shadowy wisps, leaving only his disembodied head floating in the air, his eyes wide with shock.

“You… You cannot defeat me…” Zorath’s voice wavered, the confidence and malice draining from him.

Thorne hovered before the floating head, his stern gaze never wavering. “Your sect has lost today, Zorath. Take this warning back to your true body: Drakhelm will not fall to you.”

With a flick of his wand, Thorne sent a final beam of light into the air, where it exploded into a brilliant firework of radiant energy. The signal was clear—a call to arms for the kingdom’s defenders. Within moments, the skies darkened with the arrival of hundreds of mage warriors, their wands raised and magic flowing from their fingertips. They descended upon the battlefield like a storm, their spells lighting up the sky in a symphony of destruction.

Zorath’s remaining forces, the dark mages of Noctis, found themselves surrounded. Spells clashed in a violent cacophony as the mages of Drakhelm unleashed their fury. Fire,wind, water, and earth magic tore through the ranks of Noctis, the dark sect’s screams of agony filling the air.

Zorath’s disembodied head hovered for a moment longer, his expression twisted with fury and disbelief, before it too was engulfed in the onslaught of light magic. In an instant, the dark leader’s clone was no more, obliterated by the overwhelming power of Thorne Emberheart’s spell.

As the battlefield descended into chaos, Thorne remained in the air, his wings of light still shimmering behind him, a beacon of hope for the kingdom of Drakhelm. His white armor was stained with battle, but his resolve was unwavering.

The Light Marshal had returned, and with him, the tide of war had turned.

As the city of Drakhelm trembled under the onslaught of Zorath's demonic beast and the clash of arcane powers in the distance, the Emberheart sisters ran through the narrow streets of the capital. The once bustling marketplace and vibrant streets had been reduced to chaos. Buildings crumbled, and fires erupted as the demonic energies warped reality, but curiously, the path ahead of them remained untouched.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Meanwhile, Eden, the eldest of the three sisters, led the way with swift and precise movements. Her sharp eyes darted from side to side, but she kept her focus forward, guiding her sisters toward safety. Eve followed, her usual composed demeanor more rigid than ever, though her mind buzzed with calculations and thoughts about their next steps. Joy, though the youngest, ran with an eerie sense of calm. She felt the weight of her sisters' protection, even if she had no idea how or why they were able to move through the city without any obstacles in their path.

"Why... aren't we... being attacked?" Joy finally gasped out between breaths, her small feet struggling to keep up with her older sisters' pace. She couldn't help but notice that while the rest of the city was being torn apart by dark magic, they seemed to pass through the devastation untouched.

“Don’t question it now,” Eden said, her tone sharp. “We just need to get home. There's no time.”

They raced past burning houses, through broken streets, yet not a single spell or piece of debris harmed them. Joy felt something—or someone—was watching over them.

After what felt like an eternity of running, the Emberheart estate finally came into view, its gates miraculously intact despite the chaos raging throughout the city. Eden barely paused as she reached the entrance, pushing open the massive iron gates with a swift motion.

"Quickly," Eden urged as they entered the mansion grounds. The estate, a sprawling complex surrounded by tall stone walls, seemed untouched by the chaos, though the distant sounds of battle could still be heard. The girls darted toward the house, disappearing through a side entrance into a concealed passage beneath the main structure.

“We’re safe here, at least for now,” Eden said, catching her breath as she led her sisters deeper into the hidden tunnels beneath the mansion. Their footsteps echoed as they descended into the depths of the Emberheart family's secret sanctuary, a place few knew about, and even fewer had ever entered.

Eden stopped in front of a large stone door engraved with ancient runes. She placed her hand on the cold surface and began chanting a soft incantation, her voice low but confident. The runes glowed in response to her magic, and the heavy door rumbled as it slowly opened, revealing the vast chamber hidden within.

Joy’s eyes widened as she stepped into the room, her small frame barely able to comprehend the sheer size of the vault. The walls were lined with shelves, filled with scrolls, books, and artifacts of untold value. Weapons glimmered under the dim magical light, each one crafted with masterful precision. Bottles of rare elixirs were stored in carefully sealed compartments, and several large chests, no doubt filled with treasures, sat against the far wall.

“What… is this place?” Joy whispered in awe, her eyes darting from one gleaming artifact to the next. She had never seen anything like it, even in the books her mother had shown her.

Before Eden could explain, Eve stepped forward, her voice calm and collected. “This is our family’s emergency vault, Joy. Everything you see here is meant for one purpose: to ensure that if the older generation falls, we—the young seedlings of the Emberheart family—can survive and rise to power. It’s a failsafe, designed to protect our legacy no matter what happens.”

Joy glanced around, her fingers brushing over some of the ancient tomes. “All of this... is it for us?”

Eve nodded, her expression serious. “Look carefully. On these shelves are magical techniques and training methods. There are basics, intermediates, and even advanced spells of various elements. Over there,” she gestured toward a separate section, “you’ll find Father’s personal methods for light magic, something he’s never shared with anyone else. And in the far corner,” she pointed to a row of shimmering scrolls, “Mother’s healing magic—her entire system, preserved here.”

Eden stepped forward, her usual stern expression softened for just a moment as she placed a gentle hand on Joy’s head. “Father taught me long ago that in an emergency, the first thing we must do is take everything we can. This isn’t just some collection of trinkets—it’s our lifeline.”

She turned to Eve. “Eve, take all the books, techniques, and scrolls that might be useful. We don’t know what we’re facing yet, but we need to be prepared for anything. Joy, you’ll help me gather the gold coins and any potions we can carry.”

As they began their task, Eden handed Joy a spatial ring—an exquisite piece of craftsmanship adorned with small, glowing runes. Joy’s excitement grew as she held the ring, her tiny hands struggling to put it on her finger. The ring, meant for an adult, was far too large for her small hand.

“Tsk,” Joy clicked her tongue in frustration, her desire to wear the beautiful ring clear in her expression.

Eden chuckled softly at her sister’s struggle, then knelt down and placed a spatial necklace around Joy’s neck instead. “This will be easier for you to manage,” she said with a small smile. “You can give the ring to me.”

Joy pouted but reluctantly handed over the ring, accepting the necklace with a sigh. “Fine…”

As they continued gathering supplies, Eden’s expression grew more serious. “Listen, both of you,” she said, her tone low and urgent. “This place is protected by powerful isolation spells, but that doesn’t mean we’re completely safe. There are only two ways out of here. The first is if Father or Mother come to the door and use the incantation to open it, which means the situation outside is under control. But if things go wrong...”

She pointed toward a door at the back of the room, a single ornate door that looked out of place compared to the rest of the vault. “That chamber contains a unique spatial artifact. It’s a one-time-use teleportation device. If we activate it, we’ll be transported to a region far from here—so far, even Father and Mother won’t know the exact location. If that happens, we’ll be on our own. No help. No backup.”

Eve’s eyes flicked toward the door, her mind already calculating possible outcomes. “So we wait here until we’re sure?”

Eden nodded. “Exactly. But we can’t just sit idle. We need to be ready for whatever happens next.”

They worked in silence for a time, gathering everything they could. The vault, with all its treasures and secrets, felt like a sanctuary, but the weight of the situation pressed heavily on them. This was no ordinary storage room—this was the Emberheart family’s final defense against the unknown.

Meanwhile, outside the Emberheart estate, the front gates creaked open, and Mira Emberheart rushed inside, her heart pounding with worry. She had been delayed, unable to reach her daughters sooner because of the chaos in the capital. But now that Thorne, her husband, had returned and was battling Zorath, she could breathe a little easier.

As she reached the front gate of their mansion, she saw him—the man standing in front of the entrance, his muscular frame covered in unique, glowing tattoos. He wasn’t a member of their family, but she recognized him instantly.

“Thank you for protecting my daughters,” Mira said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. “I owe you one.”

The man waved her off with a casual smile. “Don’t thank me, Mira. I did what I had to do.” He turned to leave, but before he could step away, he glanced back. “Oh, and tell your daughter Eve… Master says she’s welcome at the academy.”

Before Mira could respond, the ground shook violently, an earthquake ripping through the estate. Both Mira and the man froze as a massive pillar of light erupted from the center of the mansion, shooting into the sky with terrifying power. The light scorched everything in its path, obliterating a portion of the mansion in an instant.

Mira’s face turned ashen. “That light… it’s coming from the confined room…”

The man’s tattoos began to glow as his body was enveloped in a red armor that seemed to materialize out of thin air. His expression grew grim. “What’s happening inside, Mira?”

Mira’s heart sank as she realized the full gravity of the situation. “It’s the spatial artifact,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Something’s gone horribly wrong.”

Without wasting another second, the two of them sprinted toward the estate, their thoughts racing as they prepared for the worst.