Max stood in the center of it all, his chest rising and falling, the sword still glowing in his hand. 'That took almost all my energy.' He thought looking at the sword. 'What is this sword?'
"Big Sis Freya!" Max gasped, suddenly rembering his sister. Without wasting another second, he turned around and ran, his feet pounding against the palace floor as he rushed through the smoke and falling debris toward her room.
---
But when he reached the hallway outside her chamber, what greeted him wasn't chaos—it was silence. Freya was already outside, standing alone, her clothes slightly torn, her hair ssy from battle, and her breathing heavy.
Around her lay a mountain of corpses—elves. Dozens, no, hundreds of bodies littered the floor, blood staining the walls and pooling at her feet. So had been pierced cleanly through the heart, others frozen solid, others burned beyond recognition. It was a scene of carnage—and she was the one who had done it.
She had killed them all.
Freya turned her head the mont she sensed him. Her ocean blue eyes locked on his, and the fierce glint in them imdiately softened.
"Maxy! You're okay!" she cried out, her body vanishing in a blur before reappearing in front of him. She wrapped him tightly in her arms, trembling with relief.
"I'm fine, Big Sis…" Max whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he held her back. "But… where are Mother and Father?"
He barely finished asking when a deafening crash ca from the sky.
BANG!
Sothing massive fell from above and slamd into the ground a few steps away from them, shaking the earth. Freya didn't hesitate—she spun around and covered Max completely with her body, shielding him from the shockwave that blasted through the corridor, cracking the walls and sending dust everywhere.
As the dust cleared, Max peeked through Freya's arms—and his eyes widened in horror.
Lying in the center of the impact zone… were their parents.
His mother, Caelira, her long black hair now ssy and soaked with blood, her calm eyes barely open. Her robes were torn, and one of her arms hung limp. His father, tall and strong, the man who had always looked unshakable, was on one knee, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth, his breathing shallow. His dark blue hair was stained, and a long, deep wound crossed his chest.
"M-Mother… Father!" Max cried, trying to run toward them, but Freya held him back.
"Stay behind ," Freya said sharply, her voice low and protective as she placed herself in front of Max, her arms spread slightly. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, locking onto the five figures that had just descended from the sky like judgnt itself.
The air grew thick with pressure.
Behind their injured parents—Caelira and their father, both barely able to stand—five powerful figures landed slowly, their presence heavy enough to still the wind, their auras suffocating.
The first was a tall elven man with flowing silver hair and sharp erald eyes, dressed in ornate golden battle armor that shimred with divine patterns. A long jade spear rested in his hand, and his expression was calm but laced with disgust.
"Caelira," he said coldly, his voice echoing through the ruined hall. "You knew this day would co. You abandoned your place in the Divine Court… chose to live among humans… and now you expect us to ignore the consequences?"
His na was Valen El'Vareth, once the youngest general of the Elven High Guard. Now, he stood here as the executioner of a fallen bloodline.
Beside him stood a slender elven woman, her icy blue eyes piercing, her green robes flowing like mist, and her hands glowing with faint threads of soul magic. She looked at Caelira with a bitter smile.
"You could have warned us, Caelira," she whispered. "Warned us that your child would inherit more than your eyes. More than your power."
Her na was Selaria Moonshade, once Caelira's closest friend in the ancient elven courts—now twisted by fear and loyalty to a higher cause.
Next stepped forward a human man, tall and lean, his red hair spiked like a fla and a cruel smirk tugging at his lips. Fire danced across his fingers, licking the air with sparks.
"I always said, the day you betrayed the Divine Court would end in fire," he said mockingly. "Who knew I'd be the one lighting the match?"
He was Darian Flaborne, an infamous fire mage known for turning cities into ashes just to send a ssage.
To his left stood a woman in black, her robes flowing like shadows, her skin pale, and her ashen-gray eyes empty of emotion. A faint whisper of death hovered around her.
"This is necessary, Caelira," she said softly, like a lullaby. "A boy with a divine bloodline stronger than yours? He is a monster. And believe when I say my hands are forced."
She was Iris Vale, a high necromancer of the Forbidden Order, feared across realms as a caller of restless souls.
Finally, the last stepped forward—a tall, broad-shouldered man with an unshakable presence. His twin swords glead on his back, and his face held no expression, only calm judgnt.
"The child must die," he said simply, looking down at Max without hate or malice, as if delivering a sentence. "That is the decision passed by the Five Great Factions."
His na was Reign Duskblade, the Balance Executioner, a man who never chose sides—only acted when order was threatened.
Max gripped Freya's sleeve tightly, unable to understand how people like this—so powerful, so cold—could speak of killing a child like it was a duty.
Caelira coughed, blood on her lips as she tried to lift her head. "You... How could you all do this?" she whispered, her voice weak. "And Max is just a kid!"
"This isn't personal," Valen said calmly, his jade spear humming with deadly energy. Without another word, he thrusted it forward, and from its tip, hundreds of glowing green beams burst out like arrows of judgnt, all aid directly at Max—the child they were sent to destroy.
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