The Primeval Era

Sir Alex had talked for what felt like hours.

Warrior positions across territories the Dominion controlled. Demon arrangements and the hierarchy of Seeds planted within their forces. The Murderous Saint’s broader ambitions to unite all Neolithic Empires under a single banner with demons serving as hidden allies. Names and locations and secrets, all of it spilling from burned lips desperate to purchase survival.

Now he hung in his chains, exhausted, broken, nothing remaining but hope that his cooperation had been enough.

"That is all I know."

His voice emerged as barely a whisper.

"Please. Let me repay your lineage. Let me repay Emperor Vakochev and the Empress for my betrayal. I will serve you loyally for-"

Damian’s human body opened its mouth.

A single dense white drop emerged from between his lips, Mana compressed through his Primordial Mana Core into something that made the air itself tremble. The drop floated forward with purpose, with intent, carrying density that belonged to realms of cultivation Sir Alex had never touched despite his Half-Step Eighth Circle achievement.

Damian reached out with one hand, grasping the traitor’s shoulder.

"Persevere, betrayer."

His voice was soft, almost gentle.

"Persevere."

...!

The drop of pure white Mana flowed into Sir Alex.

His body began to tremble immediately, flesh responding to energy it couldn’t possibly contain. Those star-filled pupils went wide as something fundamental started breaking apart inside him, cultivation channels rupturing under pressure that exceeded everything they had ever been designed to hold.

He didn’t scream.

There wasn’t time!

His skin cracked like dried clay in summer heat, fissures spreading across burned flesh as light that wasn’t entirely natural began leaking through. His muscles spasmed once, twice, then simply dissolved into particles that scattered on currents of Mana too pure for mortal forms. The chains that had held him suspended now held nothing but ash drifting downward in slow spirals.

Damian watched the entire process without expression.

The drop of white Mana returned to his body, cycling back through channels that welcomed it home. Sir Alex, Royal Captain of the Dominion of Crimson Stone, Half-Step Eighth Circle Warrior with a partially mastered Physique, was gone.

Nothing remained but ash settling onto crystalline floor.

Silence stretched across the cavern.

Serala looked at the scattering remnants with an expression mixing relief and concern. Her wing-shaped pupils moved from the ash to Damian’s face.

"The information he gave is troubling."

Her voice broke the quiet carefully.

"Demon infiltration at this scale suggests coordination that has been building for years, perhaps decades. The Dominion isn’t only allied with forces beyond the River of the World. They’ve been compromised from within."

She stepped closer to him, her white-gold wings shifting slightly.

"If we can reach the Covenant, we may be able to reverse some of this. The Hallowed Voice has knowledge and power. He has connections to Noble Beast Lineages who fought alongside humans during the ancient wars."

Her hand found his arm.

"As much of a wonder as you are, not much is known about the true nature of demons. This entire region of the Lands of Stone united to go against them before, and even then the war nearly destroyed everything."

Her wing-shaped pupils burned with intensity that demanded his attention.

"Please. Don’t try to go at them alone."

...!

Damian looked at her for a long moment.

The rage that had consumed him when he learned of his mother’s fate still burned deep, but it had cooled into something more useful. Fury without direction was just noise. Vengeance without preparation was just suicide!

He nodded.

"I have to understand them first. Learn what they are, where they dwell, how they can be fought and killed."

His wing-shaped pupils swept across the cavern one final time, across the corpses of Imperators and the ash that had been their commander.

"We have a lot to do. So let’s go."

—

They emerged from underground into morning light that seemed too bright after hours in crystalline darkness.

The Cradle of First Flames stretched around them in every direction, but the paradise bore scars now. Trampled vegetation marked the paths where crimson armies had advanced. Scorched earth showed where golden lightning had fallen. Bodies lay scattered across sacred ground, hundreds of corpses in crimson armor staining grass that had been pristine hours before.

Damian waved his hand.

The clouds above responded immediately, blue-tinged masses shifting and condensing as rain began to fall across the devastated garden. The droplets were gentle this time, carrying enough Mana to heal but not enough to overwhelm. They landed on damaged vegetation and scorched soil and the bodies of fallen Warriors alike.

And the earth opened beneath those bodies.

One by one, the corpses sank into soil that parted to receive them. Crimson armor disappeared beneath grass that closed over it like water healing a wound. Flesh and bone and metal descended into depths where they would feed roots and nourish growth and become part of the paradise they had tried to destroy.

Fertilizer.

That was what they were good for now. The same worth as fucking shit.

A shadow passed overhead.

Damian looked up to see the massive Pteranodon descending toward them, its mile-long form blocking out significant portions of the sky. The crimson runes that had bound it were dark now, their power broken when Sir Alex died. Its eyes no longer held that hazy crimson light of suppressed consciousness. They held something else entirely.

More than a dozen smaller Pterosaurs followed in its wake, their own runes similarly dormant. And from the periphery of the garden, thousands of Velociraptors were gathering, the beasts that had carried Sir Alex’s army now standing without riders, without bindings, without purpose beyond the freedom they had suddenly regained.

The Pteranodon landed before Damian’s beast form with weight that shook the earth.

Its deep voice emerged like thunder rolling across distant mountains.

"We thank you for taking us out of the control of these Blasphemers."

Those ancient eyes moved between his human body and his massive leonine form, noting both without apparent confusion.

"We must warn our Lineages of the actions that vile humans are taking yet again. But we wanted to express our gratitude first, even understanding that you mix with humans."

...!