Rothgar roared in agony, a sound so raw it shook the air around them. His glowing eyes flickered, the once-bright fire within them fading with each pulse of energy that tore through his body. The unyielding warrior, once a figure of terrifying strength, now seemed on the verge of collapse.

  The ground beneath him quaked with every labored breath, but his strength was failing, draining from him like water slipping through his fingers. His face twisted in pain, muscles tight, as though he were holding on by sheer will alone.

  Cutting through the storm of chaos and suffering, came a voice—soft, barely audible, but piercing through the madness like a lifeline.

  “Father?”

  Rothgar’s head snapped toward the source of the sound, eyes wide with disbelief. The chaos around them, the violent tremors, the crackling energy, seemed to slow, as if the world itself was holding its breath. In that moment, the warlord who had crushed armies looked less like an unstoppable force and more like a man desperately clinging to the one thing that kept him alive.

  His daughter stirred. Rothgar’s eyes widened further, watching as her chest rose and fell, faint but steady. Her eyelids fluttered, and with a soft gasp, she opened her eyes, gazing up at him in confusion.

  “Father...?”

  Rothgar’s face twisted, a flicker of relief briefly crossing his hardened features, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. A low, primal growl rumbled from deep within him. For a moment, his body still trembled from the strain, as if the ritual had drained every last drop of his strength. But then, as if fueled by willpower and rage, his strength surged back into him with terrifying force.

  In one swift, explosive movement, Rothgar pushed himself to his feet, no longer trembling, but standing tall. His eyes, once clouded by desperation, now burned with fury, their glow brighter and more menacing than before. His body radiated power, the exhaustion gone, replaced by a renewed and dangerous energy.

  “Good,” he muttered, his voice no longer ragged, but strong and dripping with malice. His eyes locked onto Bihiro, filled with unrelenting rage. “You’ve served your purpose.”

  With a deafening crack, Rothgar summoned his twin greatswords. The massive blades materialized in his hands, both glowing with the same furious intensity as his eyes and the fiery symbol on his chest. The air vibrated with power as the swords hummed with raw energy.

  Kale’s eyes widened in horror. “No!” he shouted, lunging forward in a desperate attempt to stop him. But Rothgar was already moving, his every step filled with the deadly purpose of a man who had nothing left but his rage. He advanced on Bihiro with terrifying speed, his greatswords raised high.

  “Wait!” Bihiro stammered, panic flashing across his face. “No! We lifted the curse! You promised!”

  But Rothgar wasn’t listening. His eyes burned with an all-consuming hatred. “Now you will pay for what you have done!” Rothgar roared, his voice thundering across the clearing. “You will suffer as she has suffered! I will destroy each and every one of you!”

  In one fluid motion, Rothgar swung his greatswords in a deadly scissor-like arc, aiming to cleave Bihiro in two. Bihiro's terrified scream echoed in the air as the blades whistled toward him.

  But just as the swords were about to strike, a blinding light erupted from the sky. The ground trembled as a massive, radiant sword burst forth from the heavens, slamming into the earth before Bihiro with a thunderous crash. Rothgar’s blades collided with the celestial sword, sending a shockwave through the clearing.

  “Enough.”

  Aeloria’s voice cut through the air, undeniable and absolute. The moment it left her lips, everything stilled—like the world itself dared not move against her command.

  Rothgar, stunned, staggered back, dropping his greatswords as he fell to his knees. His eyes widened, disbelief written across his face. “It can’t be…”

  And then she appeared. Aeloria descended from the sky, her radiant form bathed in an ethereal glow. She hovered above them, her presence filling the air. Her armor gleamed with a brilliance that was both beautiful and terrifying, and the swords in her many hands shimmered like stars. Her eyes, filled with sorrow, fixed on Rothgar.

  “You have allowed your rage to consume you,” Aeloria said. “This is not who you are, Rothgar.”

  Rothgar’s face contorted in pain, his voice raw and trembling. “You abandoned us.”

  Aeloria’s expression softened, though her eyes remained steady. “No, Rothgar,” she said. “You abandoned us. You allowed your grief to fester, your anger to drive you further from the man I once knew. I never left you, but you were too lost in your rage to see me.”

  The energy in the clearing seemed to shift as Rothgar’s daughter stirred, her voice weak but clear. “Mother?”

  Aeloria turned toward her daughter, her form glowing brighter. She descended to the ground, her steps light, and knelt beside her. “It’s all right, Lyra,” Aeloria said softly, her voice filled with warmth and love. She gently cradled Lyra in her arms, her radiant figure shielding her daughter. “Everything is all right now.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  Lyra’s eyes, wide with wonder, looked up at her mother. Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, “You’re... you’re here.”

  Aeloria smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from Lyra’s face. “I never left you. I’m here, and you’re safe.”

  Kale, Rika, and Liliana stood frozen, watching the scene unfold, their hearts heavy with what they witnessed. None of them spoke, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. A goddess, a father, and a daughter—torn apart by grief, rage, and loss—now reunited in the most unexpected way.

  Rothgar, still kneeling, his greatswords resting at his sides, looked up at Aeloria and Lyra. His chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths, and for the first time in years, the rage that had fueled him seemed to flicker and fade.

  Tears welled in Rothgar’s eyes as he looked at his daughter. “Lyra...”

  Aeloria raised her gaze to Rothgar, her expression softening further. “You can let go of the rage now, Rothgar. Our daughter is free. It’s time to come back to us.”

  For the first time, the mighty Rothgar, the Butcher of Izokharn, looked broken. His voice trembled as he whispered, “I... I don’t know if I can.”

  Aeloria’s hand rested gently on his shoulder, her touch radiating a warmth that seemed to cool the burning rage that had gripped him for so long. Her voice, soft yet powerful, cut through the remnants of his anguish. “You don’t have to carry this burden alone anymore, Rothgar. Let it go. I am here with you, now and always.”

  As the emotional moment between Rothgar, Aeloria, and Lyra settled, Kale, Rika, and Liliana stood back, their eyes wide, taking in the sight before them, both awestruck and dumbfounded.

  Rika blinked. “Wait a fucking minute…” she muttered, her eyes darting between Rothgar and Aeloria. “Is she? Are they? Did they?”

  Kale stood there, his mouth half-open in disbelief, trying and failing to form coherent thoughts. The pieces clicked together in his mind but still didn’t make sense.

  Equally shocked but somehow managing to stay composed, Liliana let out a slow breath. “It appears she is, they are… and they did.”

  Kale shot Liliana a bewildered look. “But how?”

  Rika shook her head in disbelief, her voice still carrying a tone of incredulity. “Gods, I really didn’t see that coming.”

  A faint smile tugged at Liliana’s lips. “Neither did we.”

  “So… why didn’t she just do that from the beginning?” Rika asked. “Why make us go through all this trouble when she could have just...” She gestured vaguely at Aeloria and Rothgar, clearly annoyed at the absurdity of it all.

  Liliana sighed. “There’s probably a lesson for someone in there somewhere… or something.”

  Rika raised an eyebrow. “Well, I hope someone learned something, because I sure as hells didn’t.”

  Kale finally blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Huh...”

  Liliana shrugged, as much as a floating head can shrug. “Divine intervention doesn’t usually come with instructions.”

  ***

  The clearing was still bathed in the light of Aeloria’s presence, her radiant form hovering above the group as the tension slowly dissipated. The Izawac, who had once looked at Rothgar with hatred and fear, now stood in awe, their eyes wide, witnessing what they had believed impossible—a god intervening in the mortal realm.

  Rothgar turned slowly to Bihiro, his face no longer twisted with fury, but with something more solemn. His greatswords vanished, the fiery glow in his eyes dimming as he addressed the Izawac chief.

  “Bihiro,” Rothgar began, “I thank you for lifting the curse from my daughter.” He paused, the words hanging heavily in the air. “The war… is over. You and your people have nothing to fear from the Rikada. Not anymore.”

  Bihiro, still trembling from the earlier encounter, nodded slowly, his eyes filled with disbelief. The words felt surreal, as though they were witnessing the end of an era they had never expected to see.

  Rothgar turned to Kale, Liliana, and Rika. Though his expression softened, the years of war and rage still lingered in the lines of his face. He stepped forward, but this time, there was no threat in his presence. There was gratitude.

  “I owe you more than words can express,” Rothgar began. “You made me see what I had lost sight of. You saved my daughter, and for that, you have my undying thanks.”

  He paused, looking down at Lyra, who smiled faintly, her hand gripping his arm as she leaned against him. Rothgar’s gaze returned to the group, his eyes still glowing faintly. “The Rikada will stand with you when the time comes. Xeroth will not find us unprepared. When the battle begins, we will be there by your side.”

  Rika nodded, her usual grin returning. “Glad to hear it. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

  Still absorbing everything that had just happened, Kale managed a slight nod. “Thank you, Rothgar.”

  Rothgar’s expression remained solemn. “No, Kale. It is I who thank you. For saving my daughter… for giving me back my reason.” He glanced briefly at Liliana, a sign of respect passing between them.

  With one final nod, Rothgar turned, lifting Lyra into his arms, and began to walk away from the clearing. His heavy footsteps echoed in the silence, but this time, they did not carry the sound of a warrior going to war. They carried the sound of a father taking his daughter home.

  As Rothgar disappeared into the distance, Bihiro stepped forward, his face still marked with surprise and a deep sense of relief. He looked at Kale, Rika, and Liliana, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “It seems that perhaps you were not fools after all.”

  Rika chuckled. “See, I told you we weren’t so bad.”

  “Indeed. You’ve proven me wrong, and that’s not something I admit easily.”

  “We’ve put an end to one war today. Now, we prepare for the real one,” Liliana said.

  Bihiro’s expression grew serious, but he nodded in agreement. “Yes. I suppose the threat of Xeroth is greater than we realized if even Aeloria herself would come down from her plane. And though we’ve had our differences, we share a common enemy now. You have the gratitude of the Izawac, and when the time comes, we will be ready.”

  Aeloria hovered for a moment longer, taking in the assembled group. Her focus settled on Kale, Rika, and Liliana. “You must go to Nyridia,” she said, her voice clear and commanding. “There, you will meet the temple guardian, Sarassa. Leave quickly… you will be needed soon.”

  Her massive wings unfurled, and with a mighty sweep, she ascended into the sky. The brilliance of her light illuminated the darkness one last time before gradually fading, leaving them all bathed in the soft glow of the moon and stars.

  Kale turned to Liliana, his brow furrowing. “Nyridia?”

  Liliana’s face had gone even paler than usual, her usual calm demeanor shaken. “Nyridia…”

  Rika caught the unease in her voice and raised an eyebrow. “What’s in Nyridia?”

  Liliana hesitated for a moment. She took a slow, measured breath. “My parents.”