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Chapter 19: The Vow and the Shadows
The sun had begun to set on the Sanctuary, casting a soft gold light over the quiet village that once echoed with fear and battle cries. But today, it was filled with celebration. People smiled, children danced, and flowers bloomed across the path where Rael stood, waiting.
He never thought this moment would come.
Beside him stood Lyra, radiant in a flowing crimson dress that glowed like her spirit in battle. Rael wore his new white healer's robe, lined with silver threads. Their eyes met, and the entire world seemed to fall silent.
In front of the sacred tree that had once sheltered them during the great battle, the high priest began the ceremony. No royal halls. No grand kingdoms. Just the people they had protected and the earth they had defended.
"Rael, do you promise to walk beside Lyra, in strength and in weakness, with no fear in your heart?"
"I do," Rael said softly. "She taught me what strength really is."
"And Lyra, do you promise to stand with Rael, not just as a blade, but as his heart, now and always?"
"I do," she replied, her voice steady. "He healed more than just wounds. He healed me."
As their hands joined, a golden light wrapped around them, warm and comforting. A strange energy pulsed softly between them — a soul-binding ritual older than any spell Rael had studied. Their magic now responded to one another. A shared power born not from books or training — but trust.
Cheers erupted all around. For once, Rael wasn't just the healer in the backline.
He was the one people looked toward with hope, and the one Lyra chose with her heart.
As the stars came out, the celebration bloomed with laughter, music, and dancing. Rael and Lyra stood together under the glowing lanterns, a quiet smile between them.
"I used to think I'd never belong anywhere," Rael whispered.
"You belong right here," Lyra replied, resting her head against his shoulder.
But while the Sanctuary bathed in peace, far beyond its borders, darkness stirred.
In a shattered fortress deep in the cursed region of Nekraval, a circle of broken thrones pulsed with red light. Seven figures stepped forward, cloaked in shadows and ancient rage. Once, they had been summoned into the world like Rael — reincarnated as heroes. But their fate had twisted. They had been betrayed, used, discarded.
Now they had returned.
"We've watched long enough," said one, his voice like crackling ice. "The Healer grows too bright."
Another raised a hand wrapped in black chains. "Then it's time to send darkness… to remind the world what happens to forgotten heroes."
Each bore a corrupted version of their former power. Blades made from cursed oaths. Magic forged in pain. Rage that burned hotter than any fire.
The Demon Heroes had risen.
And their eyes were fixed on Rael.
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End of Volume 1
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