The cafeteria's air hung heavy with the acrid scent of spilled stew and the lingering ozone from flared glyphs, the once-bustling hall now a cauldron of tense murmurs as students cast sidelong glances at Kael's table. The floating trays hovered uncertainly, as if sensing the storm's aftermath, while the soft hum of mana chandeliers above cast flickering shadows that danced like uneasy spirits across the scattered debris on the floor. Finn leaned in first, his golden hair disheveled from the excitement, eyes wide with a mix of exhilaration and fear, voice dropping to a urgent whisper that iscut through the din like a knife through mist. "That was insane, Kael! If the alarm hadn't blared, you two would've had a tight fight—Troy's no joke, with that thunder system of his crackling like a live wire."
Oliver nodded, his cool composure cracked with a rare edge of worry, dark hair falling over his forehead in a way that betrayed his unease as he set down his fork with a deliberate clink against the plate. "Based on his looks and aura, you're probably no match for him yet. It's not wise to engage—one wrong spark, and you're out. Think before you leap next time; guy's built like a tank, and his power's raw destruction."
Aeron adjusted his glasses, his scholarly gaze analytical but laced with genuine concern as he pushed his tray aside, the steam from his untouched stew curling like faint smoke signals. "He's right. Troy's system is combat-tuned; yours hasn't sparked. Provoking him? Reckless. We can train you, but survival comes first—don't let pride drag you into the void."
Kael shrugged them off, his silver eyes distant and stormy, voice flat as he poked at his cooling food, the metallic tang bitter on his tongue amid the hall's lingering chaos. "Not interested in listening. I'm not scared of Troy—or anyone. Drop it."
Finn pressed, sweet face earnest, leaning closer with a pleading tone that carried a hint of desperation. "Come on, we're looking out for you. He's got connections that could ruin you—expulsion, or worse. Don't throw it away over one standoff."
Oliver: "Think logically. Aura like his? You'd get crushed. Play smart—live to fight when you're ready."
Aeron: "We help with flows, but this? Suicide. Back down, regroup."
Kael's jaw tightened, the mockery echoing deeper in his mind like a relentless curse, a storm of taunts fueling his resolve amid the cafeteria's fading echoes. "Let it slide. Now."
They exchanged uneasy glances, Finn sighing deeply with a resigned shake of his head. "Fine, dropping it—for now." They resumed eating in strained silence, the bell ringing soon after—a melodic chime that sliced the air with crystalline clarity, signaling lunch's end. Trays cleared automatically with soft whirs, students packing up in hurried rustles, the hall emptying like a receding tide under the chandeliers' watchful glow.
The gang headed out, weaving through the throng into sun-dappled corridors, robes fluttering like banners in the breeze carrying hints of blooming flora from the gardens, the light filtering through arched windows in golden shafts that warmed the stone floors. Finn broke the silence, voice light but tentative. "So, that class was wild, huh? d'Est Evon's a beast—systems popping like fireworks. Yours'll hit soon, Kael, mark my words, and it'll be epic."
Oliver smirked, trying to lighten the mood with a casual nudge. "Yeah, and when it does, Troy's toast. But seriously, avoid him till then—ranks are brutal enough without feuds dragging you down."
Aeron: "Curriculum's intense. Team up for flows study? We could map quirks together, turn that void into something unstoppable."
Kael grunted. "Maybe. Just walk."
Suddenly, ahead in the open field, Troy and his gang loomed, blocking the path like a storm cloud, their auras crackling faintly with suppressed power. Fear gripped Finn, Oliver, and Aeron—their steps faltering, faces paling under the sun's glare—but Kael remained unfazed, stride steady, silver eyes locked forward with cold calculation.
Troy's smile flashed like a predator's teeth, vicious and gleeful, his voice booming across the field with mocking triumph. "Draven! Come forward—if you got the guts. Let's settle this, reject, right here where everyone can see you break."
By then, students gathered, crowd swelling like a wave, phones out videoing, whispers buzzing: "Fight brewing!" "Unsparked vs. Traven— this'll be quick and bloody."
Finn grabbed Kael's arm, voice tight with panic. "Don't go—Troy'll kill you! Back down now!"
Oliver: "Consequences, man. Expulsion, or worse—think of your future!"
Aeron: "He's right. Live to spark another day—don't throw it away on pride."
Kael, pissed by Troy's taunts and the crowd's mocking laughter that echoed like curses, slowly removed Oliver's hand. "Once again, not friends." He walked calmly to Troy, face to face, eyes locked in desperate intensity, the air between them charged with unspoken mana, the field's grass rustling under the gathering wind.
The crowd shocked, gasps rippling like wind through leaves. Avelline, heading to class, spotted the gathering, her purple eyes widening as she paused, staring at the standoff with a mix of curiosity and concern, her long hair swaying in the breeze, heart quickening at the unfolding drama.
Troy sneered, voice dripping malice as he cracked his knuckles. "Gonna beat you to pulp, reject. You'll beg for mercy before I'm done—your Draven name won't save you."
Kael's reply sarcastic, dreadful, voice low but carrying like a threat. "Pulp? Ambitious for a bully hiding behind goons. But you'll be the one begging—crawling back to daddy's shadow, broken and forgotten."
Troy's boys ignited glyphs, auras flaring in anticipation, the air heating with their power, sparks dancing at their fingertips.
Kael: "Not good idea fighting me. Walk away while you can—save face."
Troy: "Badly want this. Won't be fight—just beat down. You'll learn your place at the bottom, unsparked trash."
Kael pissed, spotting Avelline, regained cool amid the crowd's growing roar. "Promised mom no fight." Adjusted bag, devilish smile curling his lips. "So just this."
He dashed forward with explosive speed, breaking their formation like a shadow blade—they crashed in a tangled heap of grunts and thuds, limbs flailing as bodies hit the ground hard, dust kicking up in clouds, one boy rolling with a pained yelp, another clutching his side.
Ran toward the fence, muscles coiling like springs, climbed with agile precision using cracks as holds, fingers digging into stone, flipped over the top in a fluid arc, landing with a roll that absorbed the impact, grass tearing under his boots, breath steady despite the burn in his lungs.
Troy grunted, scrambling up with a furious yell: "Get him! Tear him apart—make him pay slow!"
The chase ensued: Kael parkoured down the hallway, gliding over benches and sliding through narrow gaps like an athletic ghost, students bracing against walls in amazement—his cool stunts reflecting street-honed style, the reason his father always raged at his "reckless" ways, body phasing past obstacles with ethereal grace, heart pounding, adrenaline surging like wildfire in his veins, wind whistling as he vaulted a railing, the crowd's cheers growing to a roar.
Troy chased relentlessly, his boys crashing into walls with bone-jarring impacts, unable to keep up, one slamming face-first into a pillar with a crunch of nose, blood spraying in arcs, another tripping over his own feet in the chaos, sprawling with a curse.
Kael took some out physically—fists flying in precise blurs, a hook sending one spinning to the ground with a jaw-cracking impact that echoed, another tackled through a door with a thud that splintered wood, bodies crumpling like discarded puppets, grunts and curses filling the air as he weaved through, elbows and knees striking with calculated force.
Troy pissed, breath ragged as he leaped a bench: "Catch you, dead! I'll make you suffer slow—rip you limb from limb!"
Kael paused at a window corridor, sitting casually on the ledge with mock ease, signaled taunting with a wave: "That's all? Pathetic—come get me if you can, or are you all wind?"
Troy tried igniting his glyph with a roar, lightning crackling at his fingertips like hungry serpents seeking prey; Kael let go, falling through the window with wind whistling past his ears, twisting mid-air to land on a lower ledge with a controlled thud, the impact jarring but exhilarating, bones vibrating from the drop.
Troy tsk in frustration, pivoting to a different route, feet pounding stairs in furious rhythm, sweat flying as he shoved students aside, his robe tearing slightly on a sharp corner.
Kael landed on the roof with a soft thud, began running across the slanted tiles—by this time, all students were spectators, crowding windows and fields, roommates astound with wide eyes, cheers rising like a wave as he leaped gaps, the sun glinting off his silver hair.
He jumped the edge, time seeming to slow as he flew through the air, arms windmilling for balance, the ground rushing up with dizzying speed, landed gracefully with a roll, no bone break, dust kicking up in a plume as he sprang to his feet, the crowd gasping in unison.
"Hey Garrick!" He greets Garrick casually with a nod as he sprinted past, the dorm master standing in the hallway with arms crossed, face reddening with fury.
Garrick surprised, bellowed: "Stop right there! You're breaking every rule in the book—halt or face severe punishment, boy, I'll have you expelled!"
Kael didn't listen but ran further, weaving through courtyards with agile dodges, eventually reaching a dead end—a high wall of smooth stone, no holds, no escape, breath ragged, heart slamming against his ribs like a caged storm, sweat stinging his eyes, muscles burning from the relentless pursuit.
He turned, back to the wall, and saw Troy slowly walking up, breathing heavily, sweat beading on his brow, eyes burning with rage. "Dead meat now. No escape—time to pay for your mouth, with blood."
Kael stood unfazed, grinned defiantly, warned in a low growl: "Last chance—back off before you regret it, before I make you."
Troy pissed, the mockery fueling his fury, ignited his glyph with a roar: "Regret? You'll be the one regretting!" Lightning coiled around his fists like living serpents, and he charged like a bull, the ground cracking under his steps, air humming with electric power, sparks flying as he closed the distance in a blur, fist rearing back for a devastating strike.
At that moment, the convergence occurred—the sky split open for a second like a rent veil in reality, time dilating in a surreal stretch where seconds felt like eternities, every heartbeat echoing slow and deliberate, the heavens radiating sparking aurora flairs that painted the clouds in vivid crimson and violet streaks, as time and space intertwined in a cosmic dance, winds howling with unnatural force that bent trees and whipped dust into cyclones, the air crackling with raw, primordial energy that made skin tingle and hair stand on end, lightning forking across the horizon in black veins, the ground quaking slightly as if the world itself recoiled, clouds boiling like a cauldron of fate, thunder rumbling like the growl of awakened gods.
Kael's eyes lit red like glowing embers from the abyss, a surge of cursed energy coursing throughout him like black lightning forking through his veins, the intensity crackling across his skin with visible dark arcs, veins bulging with inky power, the ground trembling beneath his feet as shadows lengthened unnaturally, coiling around him like loyal hounds ready to devour, his body convulsing as power flooded every cell, screams of ancient rage echoing in his mind.
Everyone in the school stared in awe at the sight, the auroras casting eerie glows on their upturned faces, whispers rising amid the wind: "What's happening? The sky's breaking— is it a storm spell gone wrong?" "No, look at Draven— that's no normal awakening, it's like the voids are opening!"
Kael's body materialized into a dark powerful shadow, memories flashing in his mind—ancient battles where mountains crumbled under his gaze, betrayals that echoed through eons like eternal screams, empires falling in flames as he laughed amid the ruins—time glitched like fractured glass, powers evoking in waves of raw malice that warped the air around him, his form twisting and reforming in a haze of black ether, bones shifting with audible cracks, skin rippling as tattoos emerged, the transformation a symphony of darkness that sent chills through the crowd, the wind whipping robes and hair in frenzy.
He landed on his feet with a thunderous impact that cracked the ground in spiderweb fissures, face looking eager and desperate, lit with a devilish smile that revealed sharp fangs—like a vampire: muscular frame rippling with unnatural strength and veins of shadow, black tattoos coiling like living curses across his skin in intricate, pulsing patterns, four red eyes glowing with eternal malice and hunger, sharp fangs glinting in the aurora light, wild hair spiked with dark energy that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, creating a halo of void, his presence alone wilting nearby grass and making the air grow cold and heavy.
Aura oozed out of him like inky smoke that corrupted the grass at his feet, turning it withered and black, the system appearing in a crimson interface that hovered like bloodstained glass: pand levels.
┌─────────────────────────────────────────────┐
│ ░▒▓ SYSTEM ALERT ▓▒░ │
│ REINCARNATION COMPLETED│
├─────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ SLOT STATUS: [█░░░░░░░░░] 10% │
│ │
│ WARNING: Threat detected. │
│ Use curse skill to kill opponent .│
├─────────────────────────────────────────────┤
│ DO YOU WANT TO ACTIVATE CURSE SYSTEM? │
│ │
│ [YES – ] [NO – ] │
└─────────────────────────────────────────────┘
Troy frozen in fear and shock, his glyph fizzling as he backed a step, voice trembling with wide-eyed horror: "What... what are you doing? Get away!"
Kael looked abruptly, head tilting with predatory curiosity, his four eyes narrowing in amusement: "Who's Kael?
Troy's fear deepened, he tried to activate his system with desperate gestures, hands shaking: "Thunder Surge!"—but it shattered mid-formation like brittle glass, an invisible thread like force chopping off some of his fingers in a spray of blood and bone fragments, the digits falling to the ground with wet thuds, pain exploding as he clutched the stump.
He screamed in pain and agony, holding his injured hand as blood dripped in thick, crimson streams to the ground, staining the grass red, his face contorted in shock. "Ahh! My hand—what the hell are you? Monster!"
Kael inhaled fresh air deeply, savoring the scent of fear and blood like a fine wine, his four eyes narrowing in delight as he stepped forward slowly. "It's been so long... the world has changed a lot. Mortals weaker, but their fear... exquisite."
Troy didn't understand, stammering through pain, backing away on his knees: "What... what are you talking about? This isn't real—you're just a reject, a failure!"
Kael: "I'm going to continue the journey i once embarked on and bring chaos to the world. I'm destruction and havoc— the end of your pathetic order, the unraveling of sorcery's lies."
Troy scared, crawling back desperately: "Stay away! You're a monster—help, someone!"
Far away in the distant heart of Nexus, a master sorcerer jerked up from his meditation chamber, the powerful aura hitting him like a tidal wave of malice, his eyes widening in horror as memories of ancient texts flooded back—that type of aura hadn't been felt in a long time and could only mean one possibility, the unthinkable return from the voids. He saw his staff as it flickered with dark red lights, the crystal at its tip pulsing like a heartbeat from the abyss, and he gasped in awe and fear, voice trembling as he clutched it: "He's back... the King of Curses has returned.
At the scene, Kael raised a clawed hand to finish Troy, shadows coiling like serpents ready to strike, the air darkening as energy gathered in a swirling vortex of malice—when suddenly someone brought him down with a powerful force, creating a thick smokescreen that billowed like ink in water, obscuring everything in choking fog that stung eyes and throats, the displacement leaving a vacuum that sucked in leaves and dust with a whoosh.
Few seconds later, Kael appeared somewhere unknown—a dimly lit cavern deep underground, shadows dancing on jagged walls from flickering torchlight that cast eerie, elongated figures, the air cold and damp with the scent of earth and ancient decay, drips echoing like distant heartbeats from stalactites above. He looked around, senses heightened to razor sharpness, voice echoing off the stone like a thunderclap: "Who's there? Show yourself or face annihilation—I'll tear this place apart stone by stone."
A group of curses started surrounding him—grotesque forms with twisted limbs, scaled skin glistening in the low light, glowing eyes like coals from the abyss, their breaths rasping like wind through dead branches, claws scraping stone as they closed in. He took a battle stance, muscles tensing like coiled springs, ready to kill them in a sec with a surge of dark energy that made the air hum and crackle— but surprisingly they bowed to him, knees hitting the stone floor in unison with reverent thuds, showing honor and respect, their heads lowered in submission, the cavern filling with a low chant of adoration that reverberated like a hymn from the depths.
He's confused and just admits the mystery, lowering his guard slightly but remaining vigilant, his four eyes scanning for threats amid the flickering flames.
A figure slowly walked up to him, dressed in black robes that swirled like living shadows, taking off the hood to reveal a pale, gaunt face with eyes like bottomless voids, skin etched with faint curse marks that glowed faintly.
Kael: "Who dares approach? Speak, or perish in agony."
Figure: "Master... Ravok. I am Zoan, your loyal student from eons past."
Kael surprised, four eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Zoan: "You probably don't remember me fully—your memory hasn't been restored yet from the reincarnation."
Kael confused: "Explain yourself quickly, or I'll kill you right here and now—rip your essence apart like paper."
The figure—Zoan—kneels before Kael with deep reverence, voice trembling with awe as he bows his head to the cold stone. "I am Zoan, an old student of the most powerful being that ever existed—Morvethis Ravok, the King of Curses. We've waited thousands of years for this day to come, and I'm happy the prophecy came true. After your death in the great war, curses went into hiding, including me—the humans with their sorcery killed, tortured, and enslaved us for millennia, their spells binding us in chains of light, their wards burning our flesh like eternal fire. We had no hope anymore, and many curses were wiped out entirely, their essences scattered to the voids like ash in the wind."
Kael stares with interest, memories flickering like distant echoes in his mind, fragments of battles and betrayals surfacing.
Zoan: "I've been preparing and gathering a large army of powerful curses, forming an organization in the shadows—hidden lairs, secret pacts—for the day Ravok would return. And now, the wait is finally over—you're here, master."
Kael looks unfazed: "How long has it been, servant? Speak true."
Zoan: "It's been 10,000 years, master—centuries of darkness, of watching humanity thrive while we withered in the fringes, our screams echoing unheard."
Kael says: "Ten thousand years of suffering and slavery... the mortals have grown bold, their cities gleaming while our kind rotted in chains."
Zoan: "Yes, master. You've been reincarnated in the future as a human—the universe sent you back to complete your reign once again. And now that you're back, there's finally hope for all curses out there. With Ravok now back, curses can once again dominate the earth, reclaim our thrones from the light."
Kael stares sarcastically. "I'm not interested" he turns and slowly walks away, but Zoan calls him back.
Zoan explains deeper: "The reincarnation was only fully possible with the aid of the convergence—it completed the cycle, aligning stars and voids in perfect harmony, the cosmic event that bridged your past and present. You're awakened, but not fully able to use your full power now; we're still trapped in the body of your human self, the vessel's limitations binding you like chains forged from light. The universe gifted you a system, which is quite impossible because curses don't have systems, but you do—a anomaly born from cosmic whim, a tool to twist sorcery against itself. And the only way to fully unlock your full power using your new system is to destroy other systems and absorb their sorcery magic—that way, you keep leveling up with each step, growing stronger with every soul claimed, their essence fueling your ascent."
He explains a lot to Kael about his past life—who he was, what he could do, how humanity killed curses—and pleaded with Kael to set them free, pledging his loyalty to Ravok.
Kael thinks for a while, shadows coiling around him like loyal hounds, the cavern's air growing colder as his power simmered, memories solidifying like ice in his mind. He promises Zoan he will set a new path and order to the world—he will set the curses free.
A loud cheer echoes throughout the curses, everyone praising his name: "Ravok! The King of Curses returns! Master, lead us to glory!"
Zoan: "Your will is our command, master. The army awaits your orders—the voids will tremble at your step, empires fall as you rise."
Kael: "Rise, loyal ones. The era of human dominance ends. Chaos will reign, and curses will rise as kings—blood will paint the new world, and sorcery will bow or break."
Cheers swell, the cavern shaking with their roars of adoration, echoes bouncing off the walls like thunder in a storm, the ground vibrating as if the earth itself rejoiced.
Kael immediately jerks up from bed, his heading spinning in hard headache, the room tilting like a glitch in reality, sweat drenching his sheets as fragments of memories assaulted him—ancient battles where mountains crumbled under his gaze, betrayals that echoed through eons like eternal screams, the taste of power absolute flooding his senses like a dark elixir. He tried thinking if all that was a dream or not—no, it wasn't; the surge felt too real, too visceral, the energy still thrumming in his veins like a caged tempest. He had finally completed his reincarnation thanks to the convergence, and now he's back—back to continue his reign, the void inside him no longer empty but filled with dark purpose that pulsed with every heartbeat. He remembers all of Zoan's words—does that mean he's finally awakened? He has his own system; he could finally do magic even as a curse. The very thought of that reality shrouded him like a cloak of shadows, power tingling in his fingertips for the first time, a intoxicating rush that made the world feel fragile under his touch.
His roommates walk in, they're happy he's alive, their faces a mix of relief and curiosity as they crowd the small space, the door creaking shut behind them with a finality that echoed in the quiet room.
They tell him they found him and Troy collapsed on the ground—might have fought themselves out to exhaustion, the scene chaotic with smoke and residual energy.
They tell him they saw the magic lightning oozing out of him, the auroras painting the sky in eerie hues that lit the field like a apocalyptic dawn.
They explain to him he'd had awaken—those words were heavy on him, awaken? After so long, but now layered with the truth of his true nature, the greatest being ever existing, the irony twisting like a curse in his gut as human memories clashed with ancient malice.
He remembers his father, his mother, Baron, his childhood—the taunts, the mocking, the murmurs, all he had to go through only to realise he's the greatest being ever existing, the contrast a bitter symphony in his mind, each recollection sharp as a blade.
They tell him that Troy was unconscious and has been taken to the hospital—nothing serious though, but might not be in school for quite a while, his injuries mysterious but severe, fingers mangled like they'd been severed by invisible blades.
Kael stands on his feet and coldly tells them he's back—this time they don't understand what he meant, exchanging puzzled looks amid the room's dim light.
Aeron notices a mark on his neck—it looked like an handwriting, intricate and pulsing faintly with dark energy, like cursed script etched in living ink.
They try to get a perfect view, leaning in closer with wide eyes.
Oliver's yanks his shirt collar gently: "When did you start having tattoos? That's new—looks like some ancient script, dark and creepy, like void handwriting."
Finn: "Whoa, Kael, what's that mark? System brand? Or curse glyph? After that light show, you're awakened—tell us what happened!"
Aeron: "It's like void runes—old, forbidden texts from the archives. Explain, Kael; this isn't normal sorcery. What surged through you out there?"
Kael pulls away sharply, voice low and edged with malice, a faint red gleam in his eyes. "None of your business. Back off—it's not for mortals to understand, not yet."
Oliver: "Come on, spill—after that sky-split? You're awakened! What system? Fire? Void? Looks powerful, but dangerous—tell us before it consumes you."
Aeron: "Mark's ancient—resembles forbidden curse seals. What happened? The convergence light... it changed you."
Kael smirks coldly, eyes flashing red for a split second, the room seeming to darken slightly. "Not yet. But soon... everything changes. The world will kneel—starting with fools like you if you push."
Scene shifts across the continent to Heavens Realm, the center of all affairs and sorcery in the world, a majestic citadel of crystalline spires piercing the clouds like spears of light, halls echoing with the hum of eternal spells, home for the board members where meetings and conferences held, politics and affairs were adjourned in chambers of glowing ether that pulsed with the realm's collective power, the structure floating above the capital like a guardian star. The board members constituted of the higher ranks—the Celestial Imperials—they were powerful celestial beings who ruled and govern the world in which sorcery attained, cloaked in robes of starlight and power, their presences like living constellations that commanded awe and obedience, each one a pillar of light with eyes that saw through veils of time.
After them stood the Divine Visionaries, second in the chain of command, sages of unparalleled wisdom with auras that bent reality subtly, their minds vast as the voids they guarded. Power sorcerers, mages, sages, monks, commanders, and generals of the Void Wardens—powerful personnel in the hierarchy of sorcery—all gathered for this press conference held at the Heavens Gate, a vast hall with thrones of mana crystal that vibrated with energy, the air shimmering with holographic displays of realms and threats, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of incense and arcane residue, every surface etched with wards that hummed like a symphony of protection, every surface etched with wards that hummed like a symphony of protection, tension palpable as whispers filled the space.
The legister, a robed figure with a voice like echoing chimes, tells them the meeting is about to start and they all settle down, seats humming as wards activated to ensure secrecy, the hall falling into a tense hush.
Sir Orion Grindwald stood up ready to give his speech—he was one of the Divine Visionaries and the wiser man on earth, people sought to him for advises and was known as the Foundation on which the higher ranks relied on, his long white beard flowing like a river of light, eyes holding the weight of centuries, his robe embroidered with symbols of cosmic balance that glowed faintly.
He tells them that he sensed a powerful aura earlier and that it might seem that the one thing they feared the most, the unthinkable had happen—dark, malevolent, ancient as the voids themselves, an energy that twisted the fabric of reality like a knife in silk.
Everyone his surprised, the whole board directors and house of assembly all confused, murmurs rising like a gathering storm, faces paling under the hall's ethereal light, hands clenching thrones with white knuckles.
He tells them that Ravok is back.
They all gasp in shock and horror, the chamber erupting in chaos—chairs scraping with sharp screeches, voices overlapping in panic, holograms flickering as emotions surged like uncontrolled mana.
The meeting talk turns to frantic debates: "How is this possible? Legends said he was sealed forever in the ether's depths, his essence scattered!" "The System's fractures—could this be the cause, a rift from the convergence tearing open old wounds like a scar reopened?" "We must mobilize the Wardens immediately—strike before he gathers strength, before the curses rally from their hidden lairs!"
General Garloth Goldenoid, subordinate general of the Void Wardens, armored in gold-etched plate that gleamed like the sun, accompanied with his commander Hanzo, stern and battle-scarred with a scar across his eye that pulsed faintly.
He tells them they should search for Ravok and kill him—strike before he regains full strength, deploy every asset from fringes to core, leave no shadow unchecked.
This sparks debate among the assembly: some nod in agreement, "Yes, end it now—mobilize the legions with full force, scour the realms!" others hesitate, "His power—can we even face him without losing half our forces, without awakening worse horrors from the voids?"
In the midst of the confusion and commotion, a dark whirlwind appears at the center followed by bats, swirling like a vortex of night, the air chilling as shadows deepened, bats fluttering in chaotic swarms that brushed against faces with leathery wings that sent shivers down spines, screams rising as the temperature dropped like a plunge into ice.
It goes in like a whirlwind and slowly a figure appears in black garment with a staff that showed snake eyes—he was the powerful Omar Svenvasten a powerful sorcerer known for practicing dark magic which was against the law of sorcery, his pale skin like marble under the hall's light, eyes burning with forbidden knowledge; he was not approved by most of the council members and most people feared him, his presence sucking light from the room, leaving corners in unnatural darkness that seemed to whisper secrets.
He laughs devilishly and asks them why have they let fear consume them, his voice echoing like cracking ice, staff's snake eyes hissing faintly with venomous glee.
Orion stares him in the eye and tells him that Ravok is a threat to humanity and this meant doom in the world but Omar tells him it's a good thing Ravok is back now they had someone stronger than sorcery itself a powerful being they all must worship this sparked arguments between Orion and Omar most of board members in compliance with Omar but still didn't change the fact about their situation.
Orion: "Svenvasten, your dark arts blind you to the truth! Ravok's return spells doom for all—humanity, sorcery, the System itself will fracture under his curse like glass under a hammer! We must unite and seal him before he corrupts the lattice, before the voids swallow us whole!"
Omar laughs, staff's snake eyes glowing red as he leans forward, shadows lengthening from his form. "Blind? You fools cling to your fragile light while shadows rise like a tide, drowning your illusions. Ravok's back is salvation—stronger than your petty spells, a force to reshape reality in glorious chaos. Worship him, or perish in his wake. The old order crumbles; embrace the chaos, or be swept away like leaves in his storm!"
Orion: "Embrace? He's destruction incarnate—mountains to dust, oceans to fury, civilizations erased in his shadow! We'll hunt him, seal him again—before he claims more souls, before the curses rise en masse. The Visionaries stand firm against this abomination!"
Omar: "Hunt? You couldn't before with all your might; now, after 10,000 years' evolution, with his power amplified? Pathetic delusion. Many here see the truth—power lies with the King. Join, or be crushed under his heel. The curses rise; sorcery falls—choose wisely, or die."
Board murmurs agreement with Omar's dark allure, voices overlapping: "He's right—Ravok's power could elevate us beyond the System!" "No, it's heresy—seal him, or we're all doomed!" But fear prevails—plans form amid discord, the hall tense with divided loyalties, shadows lengthening as if Ravok's influence already crept in like insidious vines.
Words spreading throughout the nation, countries, continents—hearing of the return of Ravok this spread panic and fear amongst people, families worried huddled around hearths discussing evacuation and wards with trembling voices, lords crumbling in fear within their fortified halls, issuing desperate decrees to bolster defenses amid crumbling morale. It was all over in the news, headlines blaring on holographic screens in city squares with ominous red fonts, papers with bold prints scattered in streets by frantic vendors under stormy skies, in houses whispers of doom over flickering candlelit dinners as children clung to parents in terror, schools lessons halted as teachers explained legends turned real with trembling hands—it spread like wild fire speaking of the return of the devil's curse Ravok the king of curses, the world trembling under the shadow of impending apocalypse, every eye turned to the skies for signs of the coming storm, every heart pounding with the dread of what lurked in the darkening horizons, the very fabric of society fraying as prophecies of end times whispered from every corner, leaving no soul untouched by the creeping terror.