Twelve years ago, a mysterious horde from the east attacked Anterthon, tearing through Anterthon, burning villages, and destroying countless lives. In desperation, the king summoned the powerful Wizards led by the Elemental Guardians.

  The war was brutal, stretching on for two long years. Battle after battle, magic clashed against steel, each side left battered by unyielding.

  In the heart of this chaos, Bernard Fireon, the Fire Guardian, fought on the frontlines. His sword flashed as he unleashed fire spells, driving back wave after wave of enemies. Exhaustion weighed on him—he had been fighting for two days straight, his strength nearly gone.

  But he couldn't afford to falter.

  As he forced himself back to his feet, a sudden movement behind him caught his attention—a soldier lunged, blade raised.

  Before he could react, that man froze mid-strike, his entire form encased in a sphere of ice, his face twisted in terror as frost crept over him. The life faded from his eyes as the ice took hold, sealing him in a frozen prison.

  Bernard turned to see Lyra Maridian, the Water Guardian standing nearby, her expression fierce and unyielding.

  "Watch your back, Bernard," she said calmly.

  He nodded, a brief flicker of relief crossing his face. "Thanks for that."

  They fell into step together, moving as one as they pressed towards the heart of the enemy's camp, covering each other's backs.

  Lyra stepped forward, closing her eyes as she began chanting the words of her ultimate spell, a power only the Guardians could wield. She spoke, he voice carrying over the battlefield:

  Flue et vincire, a rivo ad mare, Hostes meos tene, nam nemo fugiet!

  As her chant ended, a massive magic seal appeared in the sky, casting long shadows across the battlefield. Both sides halted, momentarily captivated by the sight.

  "Water Prison!", she commanded.

  Spheres of water formed in the air, each trapping an enemy in a suffocating grip. They struggled, but one by one, they began to fall, either slipping into unconsciousness or succumbing to the spell's deadly hold.

  Yet amid the chaos, a lone figure remained unaffected. Cloaked and masked, the enemy commander stood untouched by Lyra's magic, watching the battle with an unsettling stillness.

  The strain of the spell had drained Lyra, and she staggered, breathing heavily. She caught Bernard's eyes. "Now's your chance—go to their leader."

  Bernard gave a determined nod, focusing on the unmoved figure. Sprinting toward the center of the battlefield, he closed the distance, feeling the weight of his mission sharpen his resolve.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  It didn't flinch as Bernard approached. In one swift motion, the figure raises a dark, enchanted blade, meeting his fiery sword with a powerful clash that sends shockwaves through the air.

  The figure's voice was low, taunting. "So, the Fire Guardian himself...I've been waiting for this."

  Bernard gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of exhaustion, but he knew he couldn't back down.

  Summoning the last reserves of his pnevma, he incant the words for his ultimate spell, feeling the heat of magic surge within him. A glowing seal flared at his feet.

  Ex cineribus surge, flamma fidelis, Alae ignis, in nomine Phoenicis!

  A flash of light burst forth as the blazing phoenix erupted around him, its fiery wings spread wide before it shot into the sky and then dove to merge with his sword and his body, setting the blaze ablaze.

  Bernard charged forward, his sword engulfed in flame, and swung with everything he had toward the figure's chest.

  His blade connected, slicing through the air as it drove toward its heart. Suddenly, he felt a sudden chilling shift in the air—a faint shimmer, like a ripple spreading outward from the figure.

  Before he could react, his protective aura from his ultimate spell dissipated.

  In that split second, the figure had cast a nullification spell, stripping Bernard of his final defense.

  Bernard's blade struck true, but so did the enemy's. Its dark, enchanted sword drove into his unprotected chest, slipping past where the protective flames should have been.

  Pain tore through him, sharp and unforgiving, and he staggered back, his fiery aura flickering as his strength began to fade.

  The figure's face remained hidden beneath the hood, but Bernard could sense the smirk behind it, a dark satisfaction in its eyes. It tightened his grip on the hilt, twisting the blade slightly as he leaned closer, his voice in cold murmur.

  "Your fire is impressive," the figure taunted, "but even the strongest flame can be snuffed out."

  As Bernard's blade pierced its chest, blood spilled from its wound, pooling into the ground, fueling the dark magic seal binding them together.

  "What..is this?" he gasped, his voice barely more than a whisper as dread seeped into his bones.

  "All it took was a single sacrifice," he murmured, his voice fading. "For a fire to be extinguished."

  Bernard watched in horror as the it's body dissolved into the air, leaving behind only his hood and mask, which fell into the ground with a soft, hollow thud.

  The blood from the wound seeped into the seal, strengthening its grip and casting a shadow over Bernard's body.

  Pain tore Bernard, his remaining strength slipping away. He could faintly hear other Guardians shouting, feel the tremor of their footsteps as they rushed toward him, but he knew it was too late.

  With the final, weakening breath, a small flame escaped his chest—the Ultimate Fire, the essence of the Fireon bloodline—flickering softly as it drifted into the air.

  In his last moments, he thought of his family, his people.

  He hoped they would understand. He hoped they would forgive him.

  When the dark barrier lifted, the Guardians gathered around him. Leora Luminel, the Light Guardian knelt, pressing her finger gently at his wrist.

  Her face fell, her gaze solemn as she looked up, giving the others confirmation they dreaded.

  Silence settled over them, however nearby, murmurs broke out among Fireon Warriors.

  Panic rippled through their ranks as they realized what had happened—their magic had faded.

  And so, the era of Fireon had ended.

  And with it, the flame of Anterthon was lost.