A hundred years ago, the skies bled fire.
Thunder roared across the torn lands where the armies of Heaven and the Blue Moon Kingdom clashed like storm and flame. Amidst the chaos stood two men — each born to power, each bound by pain.
Ren, the Heaven's brightest warrior, stood tall in his gleaming white suit, wielding a weapon larger than a mortal blade, etched with celestial runes. Its light could slice mountains, its power blessed by ancestors.
Opposing him, King Dylan of the Blue Moon Kingdom, cloaked in black with silver veins flashing across his chest like living lightning. His weapon: a monstrous blade infused with the wrath of ten thousand storms. A single strike from it could erase entire cities.
The battlefield cracked beneath their duel.
"You call this justice?" Dylan roared, his blade surging with violent thunder. "I'll end this war! I'll destroy you—and your ancestors—for what Heaven did to my kingdom… to my father!"
Ren's face, calm but fierce, stared back. "I won't let you touch the innocent or our ancestors' realm. Your vengeance ends with me."
The clash continued for hours, neither side relenting. Bodies fell, cries echoed.
Suddenly, amid the storm of war, Ren received a sacred message—encased in a glowing bubble only he could see. It hovered, whispered ancient truth, and vanished as he pressed it.
With renewed fire, Ren invoked a forbidden spell, channeling all his energy into his blade.
A deafening crack split the earth.
He opened the Gate of the Lava Underworld—a realm where no soul ever returned. Dylan realized the trap—but he was too late. As Ren's energy surged toward him in a final strike, Dylan muttered an ancient word, twisting the spell.
A golden flash.
"No!" Ren screamed as Xander, his elder brother, suddenly appeared between them—dragged by the dark spell. The wave hit him. Xander was thrown into the Gate.
His scream vanished into fire.
Ren collapsed in despair, staring at the place his brother disappeared. Dylan only gave a cold smile and vanished into darkness.
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In BlueMoon Kingdom
In the Blue Moon Palace, Dylan stood before three portraits—his father, mother, and younger sister. All lost in that Great war.(Great war held 6 years before)
His crimson eyes glowed. "I will avenge you. I will burn their heavens."
One hundred years later…
In a land where magic bloomed in air and petals whispered, a young fairy named Irin ran with joy through the forest. Her eyes were clear blue like the deep lake, her dark hair flowing with flowers arranged like a crown. Her skin shimmered like snow beneath a warm dawn.
She smelled like lilies—always had. A scent so natural and soft, even in dreams.
"I know it's you," said her friend Fiona, her eyes closed as Irin giggled and covered them.
"How did you—?"
"You smell like spring."
Both fairies laughed. Fiona, two years older, was strong, wise, and often acted like a sister to Irin.
"I'm going to confess today," Irin said shyly.
Fiona's smile widened. "Your dream man? Who?"
"I'll tell you once I've told him."
Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess… six years ago… stuck in a mud trap, a knight in white on a horse pulled you out?"
Irin blushed. "You remember that?"
"You tell it like a bedtime story," Fiona teased. "And I still haven't forgiven those enemy fairies for setting that trap."
Irin smiled gently. "If they hadn't… I wouldn't have met him."
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