For the first ti on the Sentinel Line, fear, depression, agony, and dread had been transford into joy and laughter as the armies of the Empire and the cultivators of the Hundred Sky Mountains danced and sang together.
Long tables stretched as far as the eye could see, laden with every delicacy the Western Continent had to offer, placed parallel to the walls where soldiers drank themselves into a stupor on booze and the hard-earned victory of the long war against the demons.
It was the end of the second day since the war had concluded and the feast had begun. The Emperor was scheduled to arrive early the very next morning.
"Hahahaha! Even offering thanks to the heavens a thousand tis wouldn’t be enough for blessing us with a King like His Majesty and a Prince like the Lightning God!" one of the Thunderbanes exclaid, completely drunk as he danced with a bottle in his hand.
"The Hundred Sky Mountains have been the mightiest under His Highness’ leadership, and once Prince Taranis takes over the throne, we might even beco the mightiest empire in all of Vyoman!" another added, dancing arm in arm with him.
"You are certainly right. But now that you ntion it, where is the Prince? I haven’t seen him for the past two days. Don’t tell he’s already returned to the Hundred Sky Mountains."
"No, he hasn’t. Haven’t you heard? The Prince has locked himself inside his abode to prepare a gift for his promised wife, Lady Nyria."
"Oh really? The Prince truly loves Lady Nyria deeply..."
While the Thunderbanes continued dancing and laughing, the soldiers of the Empire watched them with varied expressions. How could they so openly declare the Hundred Sky Mountains an empire, when Emperor Kharos had shown them grace by allowing the Hundred Sky Mountains to remain an independent territory, even though the land lay within the domain of the Azure Sun Empire?
---
Inside Taranis’ Camp
Taranis sat cross-legged on the floor, and before him hovered a white sphere, floating in the air due to the divine Soulforce being poured into it. It was the core he had extracted from Iskandor. Demons, much like beasts, possessed a core within them that allowed them to transform into complete demons.
Now, the core of the Ice Demon lay before Taranis, who was purifying it of corrupted Soulforce by channeling his own divine Soulforce into it.
He had been at it for the past two days, taking his ti to ticulously remove every last trace of impurity from the core.
Suddenly, the core began glowing even brighter, illuminating the entire tent. Taranis snapped his eyes open and exclaid, "Finally! I have purified it!"
Without wasting a single second, he grabbed the core in his hand wrapped in a golden aura and began compressing it with both hands, swiftly moving toward a table where a rod of tal lay.
This was no ordinary tal. Bearing a deep black hue and remaining cold under any mortal temperature imposed upon it, this tal—known as cold iron—was a treasure of priceless value, so rare that only royalty could gain access to it.
Applying even more pressure to the core and fully lacing it with his divine Soulforce, Taranis forced out a snow-white droplet of liquid that fell onto the cold iron rod resting on the table.
The mont the liquid left the core, it crumbled into fragnts and dropped to the ground, losing all color.
At the sa instant, Taranis shifted his focus to the cold iron, which began trembling the mont the droplet made contact.
Pouring even more divine Soulforce from his hands, he seized a hamr with one hand, placed the iron rod upon the anvil with the other, and began hamring it down with thunderous blows, each strike causing the entire tent to tremble.
He continued through the entire night, each strike precise, hamring the cold iron with exactly the sa pressure as the one before it. Cold iron could only be heated by the Soulforce of a cultivator. The higher the cultivator’s realm, the higher the temperature the cold iron could reach. and the higher the quality of the resulting product.
For Taranis, who possessed Divine Soulforce, the results were nothing short of extraordinary. He did not even need to sharpen the blade or forge a separate hilt. With every strike, the iron rod gradually took the form of a white longsword, its hilt shaping itself into an intricate and beautiful design of silver. At the sa ti, a na began engraving itself upon the blade, as though guided by the Heavenly Will itself.
"Huff... huff... I hope she likes it," Taranis said, his breathing coming in short, heavy gasps as he raised the sword in his hands.
The continuous outpouring of divine Soulforce over the past two days, especially after his intense battle with Iskandor, had left Taranis considerably exhausted, even though he was a god.
As he admired the sword, a voice called out from outside the camp.
"Your Highness, the guests have arrived and are requesting your presence."
"Huh? Has Emperor Kharos already arrived?" Taranis thought inwardly before replying aloud, "I’m tired. I will et them later."
A brief pause followed before the voice spoke again, this ti tinged with worry. "Y-your Highness, it is not my place to say this, but... is it wise to make the Queen and Lady Nyria wait?"
"Huh!?" Taranis flinched upon hearing the familiar nas. "Wh- who did you say has co again?" he asked, wanting to be certain he had heard correctly.
"Queen Aestra and Lady Nyria have arrived at the Sentinel Line and are requesting your presence, Your Highness—"
Before the ssenger could finish his sentence, the cloth of the tent fluttered violently as a bolt of golden lightning shot out in the blink of an eye.
"Mother and Nyria have co?" Taranis murmured, his face alight with excitent as he rushed outside, where all the Thunderbanes had gathered before a golden chariot, identical to the one in which Taranis had first arrived at the Sentinel Line.
When Taranis reached them, his speed slowed, yet his heart began pounding faster than ever. The Thunderbanes, upon seeing him, stepped aside to clear a path, revealing Voltrex standing at the forefront. In his arms, he held a woman with raven-black hair.
Taranis instinctively gasped in happiness and surprise upon seeing her, for she was none other than his mother, Aestra.
His breathing quickened, his heart pounding even louder as his gaze slowly shifted toward another woman standing gracefully beside her.
The Thunderbanes had their heads lowered in reverence toward the two figures, however every soldier of the Empire stood transfixed by the ethereal splendor of the woman with long, snow-white hair and skin like flawless white jade.
Her eyes were fixed upon none other than the Lightning God, who stared back at her with parted lips like a complete idiot.
"N... Nyria..." Taranis whispered, slowly stepping toward her.
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