---
Three days had passed since Raegor's funeral.
The Demon Realm was no longer quiet. The air buzzed with tension, anger, and a hunger for revenge. Word had spread far beyond the capital: the gods had attacked, and the Demon King was dead. For the first time in centuries, the scattered demon clans were waking up from their silence.
Chirag stood at the top of the black spire—the tallest tower in the ruined castle—with Siya beside him. Below, demon soldiers trained, sharpened their blades, and reinforced defenses. Kael was leading drills. Fire crackled. Wings flapped. Roars echoed.
Everything had changed.
And Chirag had changed too.
"I'm going to the mountains today," he said, eyes scanning the horizon.
Siya nodded. "The old clans?"
"Yes. Kael said they were once the strongest warriors of the Demon Realm. If they join us, we'll be ready to strike."
"And if they don't?" Siya asked softly.
"Then I'll make them listen."
---
The journey to the Silent Mountains took a day and a night. Chirag flew most of the way, his flames burning like a trail across the sky. Snow fell as he entered the mountain pass, but the cold didn't touch him anymore. His body pulsed with power—warm, steady, controlled.
He landed at the edge of a frozen cliff, where ancient stone pillars marked the entrance to the old demon clan territory.
They were enormous—twenty feet tall, carved with runes that glowed faintly. The wind here carried whispers, old magic, and distant howls.
He stepped forward.
A voice echoed from above. "You do not belong here, flame-born."
Chirag raised his head. Several demons stood on the rocks, dressed in bone armor, eyes glowing red. They held spears made of storm metal, and none of them looked pleased to see him.
"I came to speak to your leader," Chirag said calmly. "This war doesn't belong to one clan anymore. It belongs to all of us."
The largest of the warriors growled. "Our leader does not speak to strangers."
"Then tell him," Chirag said, his voice rising, "that the gods have returned. That they killed Raegor. And that the Demon Realm needs its warriors."
The demon stared at him. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, without a word, the guards stepped aside.
Chirag walked between them, through a narrow mountain path and into a vast stone chamber carved into the heart of the cliff. Fires burned along the walls. Shadows danced. The air was thick with power.
At the far end of the chamber sat a tall demon with silver horns, pale skin, and eyes like dark glass.
This was Vornar, the Silent General—the leader of the mountain clans.
"I remember you," Vornar said. "You were a child the last time I saw you. Raegor's pet human."
"I'm not a pet anymore," Chirag replied. "And Raegor is gone."
Vornar's jaw clenched. "I heard. The gods have crossed the line."
"Then join me," Chirag said without hesitation. "Let's strike them before they strike again."
Vornar leaned forward. "Do you really think your flames can defeat gods?"
"No," Chirag said. "But I think they're afraid of me."
The mountain shook slightly, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Then Vornar stood.
"I will test you," he said. "That is our way. Prove your strength. Not just your power, but your control. If you can defeat our champion in combat, we will follow you."
Chirag nodded. "Who's the champion?"
The chamber doors opened again—and a massive demon woman stepped through. She was covered in red armor and carried two giant axes. Her eyes were calm, but her muscles were like steel.
"This is Drenya," Vornar said. "She has never lost."
Chirag stepped into the circle. "Then it's time she did."
---
The duel began in silence.
Drenya moved fast, despite her size, swinging her axes in wide arcs. Chirag ducked and rolled, fire swirling around him. He didn't strike first—he waited, studying her rhythm, her power.
She came at him like a storm.
He met her with flame.
Their fight shook the cavern, melting ice and shaking stone. Drenya's strikes were heavy, but Chirag's fire was faster, sharper. He used his body like a blade, dodging, sliding, striking with precision.
But Drenya wasn't just strong—she was smart. She adapted, blocked his flames, even used the cold air to slow his fire.
"You fight with emotion," she growled. "That's weakness."
"No," Chirag replied, leaping into the air and striking her shoulder with a burst of flame. "That's what gives me strength."
Finally, he unleashed a new move—one he'd been practicing in secret. A spiral of blue fire, shaped like a dragon, wrapped around Drenya and pinned her to the ground.
She struggled—but couldn't break free.
The chamber fell silent.
Chirag stood over her. "I don't want to rule you. I want to fight beside you. Help me protect this realm."
Drenya looked up at him.
Then smiled.
She dropped her axes and nodded.
Vornar stood from his throne and raised a hand. "You have our loyalty, flame-born."
---
By nightfall, the mountain was alive with fire and war drums. The clans gathered, chanting Chirag's name. Banners were raised. Weapons blessed. Old warriors stepped out of hiding.
The Silent Mountains were no longer silent.
Chirag stood beside Vornar and Drenya, looking out over the army that was now his.
He thought of Siya.
Of Kael.
Of the gods.
And he whispered to himself, "This is just the beginning."
---