Kyrian's lithe form moved through the dimly-lit chamber. His eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on the enchanted circle that held Thalor captive. The enchanted circle pulsed with malign energy, its runes glowing with an eerie green light. Within its confines stood Thalor, a mere shadow of his former glory. His imposing stature shrunken, skin cracked and faded like ancient bark. Yet even diminished, the God of the Mount Valera radiated a quiet resilience.

As Kyrian approached, he felt a pang in his heart at the sight of his old friend. After an eternity sundered from his realm, he found his oldest friend imprisoned and drained by this system perversion. Fury rose within him, a cold anger born from the injustice done to his beloved creation.

"Thalor," Kyrian whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and sorrow. "What have they done to you?"

Thalor's eyes fluttered open, revealing orbs of dull amber. "My Lord... is it really you?" His voice sounded weak and gravelly.

Kyrian stepped closer, his keen eyes studying the intricate runes woven into the enchantment. "Yes, old friend. I've come back to rectify the injustices done." His fingers traced the air, weaving strands of primordial mana as he analyzed the binding magic. "I regret only that my arrival is long overdue. To see you so diminished…"

Gathering his mana into a swirling vortex, Kyrian began an intricate ritual. The air began to hum with energy as he wove elemental forces into an intricate tapestry.

"I will perform an ancient rite to release you from this entrapment," Kyrian said, his voice resonating with power. "Once freed, you shall be reintegrated into the sacred energies of Mount Valera, and you will take your rightful place as my vasal."

Kyrian's hands moved with practiced grace, weaving the elemental strands into a gleaming lattice of mana. The primordial forces danced at his command, each thread pulsing with barely-contained power. As the construct took shape, runes of fire emblazoned its surface, intertwining with glyphs of frost and stone.

The air grew thick with static charge, Kyrian's hair rising as the ritual reached its crescendo. His eyes burned like twin suns, reflecting the torrent of mana swirling around him. With a final flourish, he thrust his palms forward, unleashing the mana construct towards the enchanted circle.

The impact shook the chamber, arcane energies clashing in a blinding explosion of light and sound. Shockwaves rippled outward as the runes comprising Thalor's prison shattered one by one. Emerald light flickered and died, replaced by a radiant golden glow emanating from the newly-formed construct.

Kyrian held his stance, sweat beading on his brow as he poured his will into maintaining the ritual matrix. Layer by layer, the enchantment unraveled, its malignant grip on Thalor weakening. Finally, with a deafening crack, the last rune shattered, and the circle collapsed inward.

Where once Thalor stood diminished, a towering figure now emerged. His bronzed skin shone with an inner luminance, and eyes of molten gold burned with renewed vigor. Massive antlers crowned his head, their tines etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and flow like living wood.

As Thalor stepped forward, the earth trembled beneath his tread. Grass and vines erupted from the bare stone, winding their way up his frame as the full power of his domain reawakened. He drew a long breath, and the musty air transformed into the crisp, invigorating scent of an ancient forest.

"Well met, my Lord," Thalor's voice rolled like thunder, full of warmth and reverence. "You have my eternal gratitude for this deliverance."

Kyrian allowed the last motes of mana to dissipate as he straightened, eyes shining with pride. "The honor is mine, old friend. For too long have the vile machinations of this system kept you subjugated. But no more."

"Much has transpired since your disappearance. The Adjudicators..." He hesitated, pain etched into his ageless features. "They came with sorceries strange and vile, consuming all in their path. We fought, but their power overwhelmed us. If I may be so bold as to ask, my Lord. What happened to you?"

Kyrian's expression darkened, ancient fury simmering in his eyes. "During that fateful day, the Adjudicators struck without warning, breaching the sanctity of my mindscape, which should have been impossible. Caught unawares, I was not swift enough to counter their vile sorcery." He clenched his fist, knuckles whitening. "Before I could react, insidious chains of System magic ensnared me, draining my essence and rendering me helpless."

Thalor's brows knitted together, a rumble of anger echoing from the earth beneath his feet. "Those profane villains..."

"Indeed." Kyrian's voice took on a cold, razor-sharp edge. "Even as my strength waned, I fought with every fiber of my being. But their numbers overwhelmed me, and I felt the last vestiges of my power slipping away." He closed his eyes, the memory searing his mind like a brand. "In a final act of cruelty, they hurled me into the Abyss - exiled for eons."

Thalor recoiled, horror etched across his timeless features. The Abyss was spoken of only in hushed tones, a place of utter void and desolation. "Merciful skies... to be cast into such oblivion..."

Kyrian shook his head, eyes haunted. “What news of my brother?”

Thalor's shoulders sagged, regret etched into the crevices of his timeless face. "Alas, I know not the fate of the High Lord of Kendreia. When the Adjudicators first invaded our realm, their sorceries were utterly foreign - a perversion of the natural order we had long maintained."

He raised a hand, conjuring an image that shimmered with verdant light. Scenes from a bygone era unfolded, depicting the celestial army led by Il'wen clashing against the encroaching darkness. Thalor's deep voice resonated with the weight of ancient memory.

"The Pantheon fought valiantly, but these invaders wielded magics never before witnessed in Kendreia. Their spells did not draw upon the primordial wellsprings we knew, but syphoned power from an unknown, tainted source. Like a miasmic plague, their sorcery consumed the very mana that flowed through our realm."

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The verdant image flickered, showing warriors of blinding light being overwhelmed by shadowy tendrils that leeched their essence. Thalor clenched his fist, and the scene shifted to the imposing form of Il'wen, blade raised high as he rallied the faltering Pantheon.

"Your brother stood defiant against the onslaught, a beacon that rallied our forces. Yet for every Adjudicator struck down, two more took its place. Slowly, inexorably, they pushed us back until we neared the heart of Kendreia."

Kyrian watched the memory unfold, jaw clenched and eyes burning. To witness his life's work being so violated, his beloved creations falling to this insidious invasion - it ignited an all-consuming wrath that trembled at the edges of his control.

The image showed Il'wen and the last of the Pantheon making a final stand amidst the crystalline spires of Kendreia's core. Though outnumbered, they fought with the fury of deities whose divine home was being profaned. Thalor's voice grew solemn as the vision reached its climax.

"In that final, cataclysmic battle, Il'wen and his mightiest warriors clashed against the Adjudicator Prime. The realm trembled as the skies burned." He shook his head, sorrow dimming his eyes. "The Adjudicator's powers proved too great, their corruption too virulent. The final battle raged on for days, consuming the very land and sky with its fury. As the dust settled and the cries of war fell silent, I awoke only to find myself entrapped in this chamber.”

Kyrian's jaw tightened further, the vision of Kendreia's desolation searing into his mind. "We must act swiftly. But first, I must reclaim my strength."

Thalor nodded solemnly, "To reclaim your power, you must cleanse the dungeons that have been corrupted by their influence. Each one, a festering wound upon the land, must be purged. But first, we must hide from their prying eyes."

With a flick of his wrist, Kyrian summoned the residual System mana from the fallen enemies, weaving it into a shimmering vortex. He channeled his own primordial energy, melding it with the captured mana. Thalor watched, fascination etched across his weathered features, as Kyrian expertly manipulated the arcane forces.

"This disguise will mask our presence from the System," Kyrian explained, his voice low and confident. "It will allow us to roam the realm without alerting the Adjudicators."

The vortex of mana condensed, coalescing into three glowing strands. Kyrian's fingers danced deftly, braiding the strands together, creating an intricate pattern that pulsed with raw power. The air around them shimmered as the disguise took effect, their forms blending seamlessly with the System's fabric.

"Let's move," Kyrian said, his essence now shrouded with a superficial layer of System mana. He led Thalor deeper into the stronghold, their footsteps silent on the worn stone floor.

As they delved further, they discovered a hidden chamber, its walls lined with ancient records. Kyrian's noticed a peculiar artifact, a small orb, embedded on a marble wall. He reached out, his fingers tracing the glowing runes etched into the surface. The orb exploded light, and Kyrian’s vision went dark. A lattice framework appeared within his mind, revealing the inner workings of the System. He noticed large nodes of concentrated power, forming a web that encompassed the entire realm. The implication was clear: these nodes were vital to the System's ability to convert primordial essence into its own energy.

Kyrian turned to Thalor, determination etched across his features. "These nodes are the System’s dungeons. If we can cleanse them, we may be able to undermine the System from within. But first.. the Nexus."

With renewed purpose, Kyrian and Thalor continued their infiltration, venturing deeper into the Citadel. The air was thick with the hum of primordial energy, and the walls resonated with an ancient power that sent shivers down Kyrian's spine.

Thalor's voice, barely above a whisper, echoed in the stillness. "We're close, my Lord."

Rounding a corner, they came upon a massive crater, its edges lined with shimmering veins of raw, untamed mana. The sight took Kyrian's breath away. This was it: the Primordial Nexus, a conduit to the realm core.

Kyrian's mind raced as he considered the possibilities. "If we can harness this energy, we can restore your connection to Mount Valera and bolster my own power."

Kyrian reached out, his fingers brushing against the pulsating mana. A sudden surge of energy coursed through him, and he knew what he had to do. Kyrian began weaving intricate patterns in the air, channeling the Primordial Nexus's raw energy. He could feel the power coursing through his veins, rejuvenating his essence and fueling his essence.

With each passing moment, the ritual grew more complex, the patterns more intricate. Kyrian's movements became a dance, a symphony of primordial magic that resonated with the very fabric of the realm. Kyrian slowly channeled the energy, guiding it towards Thalor, who stood at the center of the vortex.

The air crackled with anticipation as Kyrian began the incantation, his voice ringing out with the power of a thousand stars. "By the ancient pact, by the sacred bond, I call upon the Primordial Nexus to restore what was lost!"

A blinding light erupted from the Nexus, enveloping Thalor in its radiance. As the glow subsided, Thalor's form had changed; his once-weathered skin now glowed with an ethereal light, and his eyes burned with the fire of a thousand suns.

Thalor's voice boomed, resonating with the power of the mountain he was now one with. "It is done. I am reintegrated as the divine entity of Mount Valera."

Kyrian's heart swelled with pride and relief. With Thalor's essence restored, Kyrian turned his gaze towards Mount Valera, looming majestically in the distance. The mountain pulsed with primordial essence, cleansed from the System’s corruptive magic.

Kyrian clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination. "Now, we must shield Mount Valera from the System's grasp. Thalor, we will hide it within your divine realm."

Thalor nodded, his eyes glowing with the light of a thousand suns. "An excellent plan, My Lord. I shall protect it with my life."

Thalor raised his massive arms, and the mountain trembled in response. The ground shook as runes of ancient power etched themselves into the earth, connecting Mount Valera to Thalor's divine realm. A radiant force enveloped the land, casting an ethereal glow across the barren expanse.

Kyrian drew upon his own reserves of power, and the air crackled with energy. He channeled his strength into the ritual, aiding Thalor in the monumental task at hand. Together, they forged a connection between the physical realm and the divine, creating a sanctuary for Mount Valera.

As the ritual reached its climax, Kyrian and Thalor locked eyes, their resolve unbreakable. The mountain shuddered, and a deafening roar echoed through the air as the land itself seemed to warp and twist. The once-barren landscape was replaced by an endless, swirling vortex, its depths shrouded in darkness.

Thalor plunged his antlers into the vortex, forging a bridge between worlds. The force of the ritual intensified, and the ground beneath their feet trembled violently. Kyrian gritted his teeth, pouring every last ounce of his power into the spell.

With one final surge of energy, the vortex swallowed Mount Valera whole, leaving behind nothing but empty space and the scent of ozone. The connection between the two realms was sealed, and Thalor bellowed in triumph, his voice shaking the very foundations of the world.

Kyrian surveyed their work. The mountain range that had once resided there was gone, replaced by an expanse of barren earth that stretched as far as the eye could see. A rush of relief washed over him, and he turned to Thalor with a weary smile.

"It is done," Kyrian declared, his voice filled with pride. "Mount Valera is secure within your divine realm. The System will never find it."

Thalor bowed his head, his teary eyes filled with gratitude. "My deepest thanks, My Lord."

Kyrian placed a hand on Thalor’s shoulder, his touch warm and comforting. "Of course. Now that I have returned, Balance shall be restored."