Weeks going by, Valor working in the plantation, Cyra out in the open field. A large pot heating underneath the burning wood, smoke rising into the air. Chemicals bubbling, this powerful scent. That deity wiping the sweat from his face, a field steadily producing a wide range of crops, herbs, and other forms of uses. Turning his attention to the devil, his expression of disbelief. That young woman having a table full of his hard work, covering his face, letting out a sigh. An idea coming to his mind, the god racing off. Some time passing, Valor returning with a large container, stacking in a variety from the plantation. Setting it down, taking out a book, his eyes scanning the complex equations. Scratching the back of his head, soon tossing aside the book. Reaching his hand into the container, pulling out some crops and herbs.

Tossing it into the air, expanding his arms. Pentagrams rapidly surrounding the materials, an azure energy spreading through. Chilling the breeze is, an icy miss setting in. Cyra glancing to her right, then her left. Raising her offhand, gathering the mist, directing it into the pot. A reaction point, one so close to her goal. From high above, those ingredients transforming. A small blue orb formulating out of it, the object floating down. A smile coming to the face of the deity, grasping it within his hands. Energy strongly emitting from it, his heart rate intensifying. Facing in the direction of the devil, making his way before her. Standing in front of Cyra, pushing it towards her face.

"Hah! Now whose better?" he proudly states.

"Ah, that is what I need. Thank you, Val." Cyra taking the blue orb.

That mouth of the god falling open, witnessing her dropping it into the pot. His hard work going away in an instant, that devil stirring the ingredients together. An ancient pentagram formulating, malevolence escaping, pressure intensifying on the area. Careful calculations, each and every step in place. The final result, everything riding on this moment. Those chemicals violently boiling, an eruption spewing high. Materials blending together, a leaf coming into actuality. That object shimmering underneath the light of the sun, hope resting within it.

"A leaf...?" Valor scratching the back of his head.

"To cut it short, this leaf is a valuable ingredient. When combined correctly, it will have the necessary components to heal all injuries and illnesses. It is based on my own ability." Cyra explaining.

Hatred consuming one for so many years, despair branding upon the soul. Desires ever so deep, feelings reaching for the smallest chance. A heart desperately trying to maintain itself, an opportunity coming along. Those times of joy once again meeting actuality, a devil filling with love for the worlds. One devoting her time into assisting others, well in awareness that her presence will not always be there. No matter how minuscule hope may be, that one continuously holding on. Necessary ingredients in a realm far from her own, a solution coming into place.

"You really found what you wanna do huh..." Valor faintly smiling at her.

"Indeed..." That young woman facing him, her smiling of brightness.

One damning the worlds, selfishness at her core. Those feelings reaching for heights far above her standing, days of yore driving her path. Fear engraving into countless, her voice echoing through many. Peace coming, that one embracing her deepest desire. A heart of softness, that devil developing medicine over countless years. The time finally coming, an equivalence to her ability to heal. At that current moment, through the city. Passing the swans along the river, over numerous people. Sounds of joy, others of despair. That tower standing tall, the temple having many worshippers on the outside. From within, a long crimson carpet stretching onward. Statues of many leaders along the sides, pillars reaching high. Paintings and other valuables within full display, a golden gleam reflecting from the tiles. Zain sitting at the front, a woman and a man at his side. From ahead, a young man enduring injuries. Blood streaming down his face, breath short upon him.

"We've been betrayed by the Blood Sect. They have captured my squad...those bastards intend to invade us...!" he weakly explains.

Zain's eyes of seriousness, four sects, each having their own way of life. One invading another, a war coming upon them. Those two at his side, unrest within the vision of the man and woman. Blood Sect, that name chillingly rushing down the spine of the master. Time of limitation, a defense that will not be able to stand. Deeply thinking on a solution, his mind wandering back, one with power far beyond anything he has come across. Lives at a risk, those many aiming for their chance of eternity. Rising from his seat, those within the room resting their eyes upon Zain.

"Get this man medical treatment immediately, I have a plan in combatting the Blood Sect. In the mean time, I expect our military force to be ready." He holds his hands behind his back.

"What plan might I ask?" the woman questions.

"I know someone with capabilities that can challenge the Blood Sect, we will have to bet on them." Zain heading onward.

Everything riding on a gamble, one loathing the battlefield. Emotions in days of the past, feelings feverishly lashing out. A pressure most agonizing, fear clawing away at the depths of countless. Small the chances may be, but one nonetheless having to hold on. Four sects, each having their own beliefs. Unthinkable it is in invading another, those inhabitants incapable of standing against a force so grand. A power specializing in combat, recruiting the best alchemists, elementals, and medicinal persons. Powerful they are, constantly having this in the awareness on numerous. Zain making his way through the city, his presence of confusion to the many. Finding his way to the mansion above the city, that plantation filling with ingredients.

"Impressive in such a short time, forgive me for requesting so much." Zain walking ahead, regret in his eyes.

On the front porch of the mansion, Cyra sitting in a recliner chair. Valor walking to her side, extending a cup of tea towards her. Taking hold of it, lowering it to her lap. Smaller these moments may be, but this no less the life she desires. One fighting through the harshest of abyss, rising to the countless challenges. Enemies around every corner, a devil resisting what is reason. Those eyes of crimson and azure resting on one another, both faintly smiling at the other. Silent they are, but most appreciative of each other. Raising the cup of tea, that young woman sipping on it. Warm it is, herbs blending together, creating a magnificent flavor. Footsteps sounding, those two turning their attention ahead, their vision upon Zain.

"I apologize for intruding." The master standing before them, faintly smiling.

"It is of no bother, we have enjoyed our stay here." Cyra assuring him.

"I am glad...but, we have a critical problem..." He slightly looks down.

Regret inside of his eyes, guests that are now friends of valuableness. That master well in awareness on a fact, the young woman despising the battlefield. Years upon years of conflict, her life finally coming together. Pain within this, yet this situation of direness. Cyra slightly turning her attention, her expression of discomfort. Conflict around every end, problems following her even now. Hatred building from her core, feelings residing elsewhere. Valor holding the back of his head, his heart at an unrest. A companion leading her life down another path, mostly putting down her arms.

"The Blood Sect will invade here, we are nowhere near powerful enough to stand against them. Please, I will provide the necessary support, but we need an edge here. Countless lives will be lost, already only one survivor returned to tell us..." Zain agonizingly looking away.

Time running out, injuries already present. A war well underway, a breach in trust. Events of similarity, conflict constantly presenting itself. Desperation at hand, those seeking eternity. Only few ever making it to ranks far above their station, resolve holding firm. Those in need, one despising the battlefield. Even so, a friend wishing for aid. Valor turning his vision to Cyra, witnessing her struggling on a decision. A heart of softness, one escaping the abyss, embracing her new life of bliss. Hearing the screaming of those that are no more, so many pleading for her assistance in this. A sigh escaping her, setting the cup of tea on the table at her side, that devil rising from her seat.

"Very well, but first we will need information on what we are getting into." Cyra folding her arms.

Displeasure in this path, yet one willing in diving back into the blackness so long ago. Valor faintly smiling, that heart of softness. Small the chances may be, but that being more than enough to resist. Despair may come, but the will to oppose feverishly extending. Zain faintly smiling, nodding in agreement. That force around her, a light in the farthest of darkness. Wind gently flowing, animals running up to the front of the mansion. Birds landing below, so many willing in seeing this through to the end. One damning the worlds, all for her deepest desire.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

"First off, five elements being in existence. Fire, wind, earth, water, and lightning. Then there are four stages of elements. The highest being the Heavenly Stage, that is where the master of the Blood Sect is at. His forces wields fire, wind, and earth. Ours is only lightning..." Zain explaining.

"Right, on top of that. If memory serves, they have the best Combat, Alchemist, Medicinal, and Elemental users." Valor positioning his arms in a thinking posture.

"Correct, so this will be a lot easier to explain then." Zain holding his hands behind his back.

An enemy of grandness, possessing capabilities far beyond those residing within the city. Five elements, three at their disposal. A leader at the stage of the heavens, difficult this situation is. Each having their own livelihood, one invading the other. Times of peace coming apart, countless taking up arms. Death looming over numerous, that will in resisting this threat. Time running low, information of necessity. Those trampling upon the smaller ones, pushing their way forward. None of rightness nor wrongness, but perspectives leading the path.

"The Blood Sect resides in the Mountain of Yuril, which can be accessed through the Forest of Nul. They are experts of the mind, body, and soul. One can say they are immortals, their blood used as weapons." Zain states more seriously.

"Immortals huh, I have several methods to deal with those." Cyra calmly responds.

"I thought you might, now then, I will explain the exact formation we will use." Zain revealing a map.

Small their forces may be in comparison to the approaching threat, yet a path going forward. Countless souls crying out, each willing in opposing this atrocity. Four sects in existence, one betraying an agreement. Those aiming for the nigh impossible, resisting what is reason. Spreading the map out on the table, Zain pointing to the Forest of Nul. That master clarifying the attack patterns, several layers in order for a path towards their true enemy. Small the chances may be, but this being more than enough. Cyra and Valor carefully studying the map, marking out points of concern. Each agreeing on a method, soon heading out. At the front of the temple, an airship within the presence of innumerable. Those two partners standing on the deck, resting their eyes on Zain below. That master speaking to the mass, so many experiencing fear.

"I despise needless conflict, even more than my own hatred for battle..." Cyra distantly speaks.

"Yeah...I never would have imagined this to happen." Valor agreeing, slightly looking away.

One leading countless into a war, fear from the mass. Despite it all, those many willing to oppose. Lives of simplicity, each refining their skills, ascending far. Times of peace coming apart, numerous holding onto their core. Even if their lives are no more, there will always be someone else in continuing their dream. It may not happen for an eternity, but one day their voices will have purpose. Sins of deepness, ruin steadily setting in. Hearts at an unrest, crying far and wide. Screaming extending high, many willing in protecting their home. That airship setting off, a rift revealing, those companions bracing themselves for the upcoming battle.

Entering through the rift, speed exponentially increasing. That vessel reaching its destination, a forest stretching for miles. Night enveloping the scene, a crimson moon shining its light down below. From afar, numerous airships approaching. Zain walking ahead, twenty vessels following behind. Raising his hand, extending it forward. Lightning rushing high, those clouds darkening. Electricity descending from above, striking the enemies. Barriers shielding them, uneasiness within the eyes of the master. Cyra walking onward, her vision on the Mountain of Yuril, a plan in place. Wings of purity stretching from her back, Zain resting his eyes upon her in surprise. Reaching back, gripping Reviver with her right hand. Ascending from the ship, flying high into the sky.

Electricity immensely sparking from her, those enemies locking onto her. Stretching the staff afar, twirling it in hand. Fire and wind magic rushing out, blending with each other. Malevolence escaping from her body, blocking those attacks. Explosions ripping through the area, Valor and Zain stepping forward, their eyes serious on the situation. Lightning descending from above, dispersing the smoke. That assault crashing against the countless vessels, colliding into the land below. Trees setting on fire, smoke rushing high. Animals fleeing, airships falling from the sky.

Through the vast land, over the mountain, a wall surrounding a city. Buildings reaching tall, those inhabitants raising their weapons. Over the many bridges, passing the roadways. Far in the back, a temple standing proud. From inside, a young man sitting on a golden seat. Silver hair extending long, tying at the base. Eyes of the raging sea, armor of blackness. His vision resting on the carpet of gold, accessories around each end. Statues along the corners, years of progress lining the walls. A woman walking up to him, kneeling before the person. One fashioning a lighter red outfit, her eyes in his direction.

"Lord Cyrus, our invasion has reached a critical halt. All of our airships has been grounded in the Forest of Nul." She states in some unease.

"All you say?" Cyrus carefully responds.

An invasion upon another, those willing in expanding. Experience far above the rest, countless reaching for the nigh impossible. Body, mind, and soul, all in fortification towards the best. Superior combat abilities, alchemist creating weapons of war. Medicine capable of keeping an army resilient, elementals possessing the fiercest of magic. Airships in overwhelming their foes, yet all crashing down. A retaliation not of expectance, even so, power far too great to overcome.

"Yes, lord Cyrus. Lightning should not be this powerful, yet those of the Nature Sect has been able to overwhelm us." She explains.

"I see, coordinate the attack towards the first layer in the Forest of Nul. They may have something up their sleeve, so be sure to spread it out to the second, third, and fourth layer as well." He folds his arms.

"Very well."

A rebellion against the Blood Sect, feeble they are in comparison to their military prowess. Ants in the presence of giants, resistance against those so high. Desperation coming at hand, those willing to fight. Small they may be, but hope guiding their path. That servant rising, heading on her way. Cyrus carefully evaluating the situation, his interest upon the bravery of his enemies. That Nature Sect providing quite a show, no matter so, his will reaching onward. Within the Forest of Nul, fire raging high, trees collapsing. Voices loud in the air, countless clashing against one another.

Spikes from the earth staking through those of Nature, fire and wind combining, a tornado of flames sweeping through. Valor rushing below, staking his blade into the land. An icy mist spreading through, the surroundings solidifying. That land freezing over, glaciers extending from the ground, reaching into the sky. Many of the Blood Sect entombing within it, that deity standing from the land, sheathing his blade. Shattering ice, those enemies falling to the earth, life still within them. Steadily healing wounds, his unrestful vision. Zain descending from above, landing behind the god. Cyra walking in, stopping beside her companion.

"Never mind them, this will not end until Cyrus is defeated. We will leave the first three layers to our allies." Zain explaining.

"He is right, the less energy we expend, the better. While they are occupied, we make our way to the heart." Cyra folding her arms.

A game of cruelty, those having to move ahead. Screaming far and wide, lives of numerous silencing. Even so, hearts seeking their own existence, away from the cruelty of the Blood Sect. An attack against them, fear evermore present. That smallest of chance being there, the will to oppose feverishly extending. Fire tearing away at the forest, animals lifeless on the ground. Magic in each direction, those enemies throwing small spheres. Explosions tearing through, bodies piling upon each other. Cyra taking out several small containers, pills residing inside of them.

"I am not certain how long this will last them. However, these pills will completely heal those who consume it. It should at least buy us some time." Cyra handing the containers to Zain.

"You have my thanks, I will give them to a commander. In the mean time, go on ahead." That master states.

"War never changes..." Valor propping his arms behind his head.

Those words of truth, sights sickening upon the vision. Countless charging in, many dying. Each having their reason, pressing forward towards their desire. Even if it is but a somber morrow, that will to oppose forever existing. Dreadful it is, Cyra unable in forgetting the past. Those events constantly playing out inside of her mind, one entering into another battle. A war not of her own, kindness ever so small. No matter so, that heart forever soft. A plan in place, the Mountain of Yuril in sight. That devil visualizing a path onward, a way towards the end of this nightmare.

"Let us go." Cyra walking onward.

Valor turning his attention to Zain, that master nodding in his direction. Facing towards his companion, that deity trailing along. Words of guidance, an old friend continuously following. An eternal conflict in days of yore, that heart fighting against the shackles trying to bind it. One rising to heights far above her own, stepping on the domain of the gods. Hatred lashing out, feelings reaching for the smallest chance. Even if it is nigh impossible, it is worth holding on. Through the Forest of Nul, those of Nature clashing against the Blood Sect. Limbs flying, screams echoing, lives no more. Those allies paving a way for Cyra and Valor, those two companions eventually finding themselves on the outskirts of the mountain. That deity clashing against an agile foe, the enemy wearing lighter armor. Eyes of the night, hair the same.

"Level four? Pitiful." He states.

"Is that so?" the deity faintly smiling.

That god adjusting the grip of his weapon, striking through his enemy. A flurry of assaults barraging the foe, an icy mist flowing through. Spreading ice, great pressure upon the body of the enemy. Witnessing this, Valor’s level rising to ten in an instant, an opponent capable of hiding their power. A glacier entombing the man, trapping him within it. Extending spikes of ice, rushing towards the approaching enemies. Those assaults piercing through their chests, spilling blood. Crystals expanding, trapping them in an icy prison. Sheathing his katana, shattering ice. Enemies lifelessly falling to the ground, that god facing in the direction of his companion. Cyra sitting on a rock, polishing her blade.

"A—Are you serious...?" his humorless vision on her.

"I have mostly given up fighting. As such, I will take action when we reach our destination." She holds Lævateinn to the light of the crimson moon.