Before The War — Second Gate of Hell
Aria slowly opened her eyes, the weight of exhaustion pressing against her back as she sat up in bed.
"I lost to him... again," she muttered, frustration heavy in her voice.
She swung her legs off the bed and headed to the washroom. Splashing cold water on her face, she stared into the mirror. "Arian!" she called, expecting a sharp reply.
She frowned. "Arian!"
Aria folded her arms, huffing. "That dragon... now that the investigation’s over, he just runs back to Azreal’s side? Am I really that hard to be around? I’ll show him."
She paused. Something felt... wrong.
"Wait... why’s it so quiet?" she whispered, stepping toward her door.
She opened it slowly and stepped into the hallway. The silence was thick, eerie. Not a single soldier, maid, or guard was in sight.
Her steps quickened until finally she spotted a maid rushing by. "Hey! Where is everyone?!"
The maid froze, panicked. "They—they’ve all gone out to battle, my lady!"
Aria’s eyes widened. "Battle? What battle?"
The maid’s voice trembled. "The infernals... they attacked the Second Gate. Word is, they hit the other gates too. Each of the pillars is out on the frontlines... even Lord Azreal."
Aria staggered back. "W-Why wasn’t I told about this...?"
She turned, panic rising. "I have to go. I have to get to Azreal."
"No, please, Lady Aria!" the maid cried. "The pillars and Lord Azreal will handle it. There’s no need for you to—"
"I said no!" Aria yelled, already dashing down the corridor. "I’m not sitting this out!"
Present Day — Final Gate of Hell
The earth trembled beneath Aria’s feet as she ran, the air thick with ash and smoke. Her heart pounded, her senses focused on one thing — the sound of battle. She heard it loud and clear, echoing like thunder across the crumbling land.
"The sound’s coming from there..." she whispered, narrowing her eyes. Then she saw it — brilliant blue flames roaring in the distance, rising high into the dark sky like a beacon.
"There’s no doubt about it... That’s Azreal’s flame," she said, breath hitching. "But... who is he fighting? Is it an enemy?"
She shook her head, pushing the thought away. "No. Don’t think. Just move. I need to get to Azreal — now."
Her legs pumped harder, pink flames flickering faintly at her ankles as she dashed across the scarred land. She weaved past broken towers, dead infernals, and ruins that once stood tall. The closer she got, the stronger the pressure became — a weight pressing against her body, almost suffocating. Something terrible was happening.
And then — she saw it.
Her eyes widened in horror as she watched, helpless, as Azreal’s arm was cut clean off in a burst of blood. It flew through the air like a fallen branch. She gasped, her mouth trembling, her body locked in place.
"No..." she muttered.
Her gaze followed the trail of blood... until she saw it.
And then — Azreal’s head was severed.
It dropped from his shoulders like a lifeless stone.
His body followed, collapsing slowly, crumbling like a monument lost to time.
Zarion stood over him, eyes calm, expression cold.
"It’s over," he said. "The king has fallen."
Aria dropped to her knees.
Tears blurred her vision. Her heart cracked in her chest.
Her scream tore through the battlefield, full of grief, fury, and agony.
Zarion turned slowly, his expression unreadable. "You must be—"
But he didn’t finish.
A flash of pink fire cut through the air.
Zarion was sent flying back, crashing through a scorched boulder. Dust exploded around him.
Aria landed on her feet, crouched low like a beast. Her hands clawed into the dirt. Drool dripped from her mouth, fangs lengthened, her skin fusing with glowing pink flame. Her eyes burned with hatred.
Her aura surged like a rising sun. The air warped with heat. Her power was no longer human — it was wild, ancient... divine.
Half her face was masked in fire. Her breathing was deep, feral.
Zarion groaned, standing. He wiped the burn on his cheek, wincing. "Tch... She’s fast."
He glanced at her, noting her stance, the change in her body. "So this is the vessel of Yuzara..."
But before he could finish his thought, she vanished.
She appeared above him, claws drawn back.
He rolled just in time, and her stomp shattered the ground into a deep crater. The entire field shook.
Zarion tried to rise — too late.
Aria appeared behind him, delivering a devastating punch to his back, launching him into the air.
Before he could stop, she was above him again.
She struck him again... and again... and again.
She was everywhere. A blur of speed and flame. Punches and kicks rained like meteors, leaving shockwaves in their path. Pink trails of light followed every movement.
Zarion was caught — a punching bag in the sky.
Each hit brought blood. Each hit left burns.
Aria’s rage was endless.
With every blow, flaming tails emerged behind her. One. Two. Four. Six. Then nine — swirling behind her like divine banners.
Zarion, barely conscious, growled. "I can’t... let it end ."
A blinding flash of light tore the sky.
Aria flipped backward, landing gracefully.
Flames devoured her whole form. Her body shifted and stretched. Bones cracked. Her eyes glowed even brighter.
Then she dropped on all fours.
A majestic, colossal nine-tailed fox now stood where Aria had been — glowing pink, fierce and regal. Her tails whipped the air, shaking the heavens. Her fangs bared. Her claws dug deep into the earth.
She snarled, eyes locked on the sky.
Above her... Zarion descended slowly through the light.
But he wasn’t the same.
His body glowed with radiant golden energy. A divine presence cloaked him like armor. Behind his head — a crown of black ash formed, thorned and twisted, pulsing with unholy power.
He floated, untouched by gravity, looking down with burning eyes.
He was no longer just Zarion.
He looked like a god.
He stretched one hand to the sky — calm, composed.
The nine-tailed fox growled low.
Its tails curled forward, gathering pink flames into its mouth. The energy condensed, tighter and tighter, becoming a single glowing sphere — massive and dense.
A pillar of pink destruction shot upward, burning brighter than the sun, tearing through clouds and space alike.
But Zarion didn’t flinch.
He deflected the blast effortlessly.
It exploded far in the sky, scattering like a dying star.
Smoke rolled across the battlefield.
The nine-tailed fox bared its fangs.
Zarion’s eyes locked with hers. Glowing. Calm. Absolute.
"Kneel," he said, voice echoing like a divine command.
"Kneel before your god."
A dozen burning spears of crimson flame rained down like judgment, stabbing through the air with divine fury. They struck the Nine-Tailed Fox’s tails — one after another — pinning her to the cracked and bleeding earth. Each impact created shockwaves, fissures spreading out like veins across the battlefield.
The colossal fox howled.
Its cry echoed like thunder — raw pain, rage, and helplessness blended into one roar that shook the sky.
Zarion hovered above, his body glowing gold, his crown of thorns pulsing like a cursed heartbeat. He slowly descended, his arms behind his back, calm, composed — like a god judging a fallen beast.
"I wouldn’t want to kill you," he said coldly, voice echoing in the heavy air. "You’re far too valuable to our plan."
His eyes narrowed, glowing brighter.
"I’ll keep you alive."
The Nine-Tailed Fox’s tails flailed, struggling against the spears, blood dripping down its limbs. Then — flames gathered at its mouth once more, condensing into a single blast of destructive power.
A beam of pure pink light surged toward Zarion, splitting the air in two.
He raised a hand, tilted slightly... and deflected it with the flick of his finger. The blast curved mid-air, exploding somewhere far away, lighting up the horizon with fire.
Without pause, Zarion vanished.
In an instant—he reappeared in front of the fox’s face. His golden eyes stared into its glowing pupils. Then—
Flaming chains wrapped tightly around the beast — glowing orange, burning with divine power. They latched onto the fox’s legs, her neck, her torso — binding her in place like a prisoner before execution.
Zarion raised his hand — and plunged it deep into her chest.
Blood burst out, painting the chains crimson. The fox screamed once more — weaker, fading.
He slowly drew his hand back out, coated in blood.
The Nine-Tailed Fox shimmered.
Her massive form cracked apart like a crumbling statue of light — and slowly... painfully... she shrank.
Her body reverted — transforming back into Aria.
She lay unconscious, barely breathing, bloodied, her pink hair tangled and soaked in sweat. Her face was pale. Her hands twitched.
Zarion stared at her for a moment.
"You’ll sleep for a while," he said softly. "At least until I’ve achieved my goal."
He knelt down and gently laid her body on the ground.
"When you wake up..." he whispered, standing back up, "you’ll see the new world I spoke of."
His right arm... gone.
Zarion gasped, staring in shock. "What...?"
He turned slowly — and then...
Dark. Violent. Endless.
An ominous pressure filled the battlefield. The air grew cold. The sky darkened.
There, rising from the ruins — soaked in blood — stood Azreal. Updates are released by 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥
His body was covered in gashes. His clothes were torn. His long white hair stained crimson. But his stance was firm, his presence towering.
His crimson eyes glowed like dying stars.
And at his forehead — a dark purple sun-shaped mark burned. Its edges flickered with violent energy. His aura warped the space around him.
He wasn’t just Azreal anymore.
Zarion took a step back.
Azreal held up something in his hand.