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Three days.
That's all the time they had before the gods would return—this time, not with warnings or monsters, but with full force. The Demon Realm had known many wars, but none like this. And for the first time in its long history, it wasn't preparing to fight alone.
The sky above the mountains turned crimson with the heat of magic being summoned. Below, in the canyons and training fields, demons, rulers, and humans stood side by side. Some practiced weapon fighting, some controlled their powers, and others learned how to work as a team—despite centuries of mistrust.
Chirag stood at the edge of the cliffs overlooking it all.
The wind played with his hair. His hands were lit with a soft orange flame—not wild like battle fire, but calm, focused. This fire had become part of him now. It lived in his breath, his blood, his soul. But even with this power, he felt the weight of what was coming.
Behind him, Siya approached quietly. "They're training hard," she said.
"They are," Chirag replied. "But is it enough?"
Siya touched his arm. "You've already done the impossible. You brought everyone together. That's more than enough to start with."
He turned to her. "Do you ever wonder… why all this had to happen? Why a powerless boy like me had to carry such a big destiny?"
Siya smiled gently. "Because power alone isn't what changes the world. It's heart. And no one has more of that than you."
Chirag looked at her. "You're the reason I have any of this. The fire. The will. The strength."
She stepped closer, resting her forehead against his. "Then let me be your strength again. Until the very end."
They stood together in silence, their flames rising gently and wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Two souls—one fire.
---
Later that day, Chirag held a council meeting in the ancient chamber beneath the Demon Castle. The room, built from black stone and glowing runes, echoed with the voices of leaders—Kael, Lunara, several demon lords, and a few human warriors who had joined the cause after hearing of Chirag's rise.
Kael slammed a dagger into the map on the table. "They'll strike from the skies first. Like they always do. Light beams, holy rain—destruction."
A human captain nodded. "We've placed shields at all realm borders. Our archers and casters are ready."
Lunara added, "We've set runes across key locations. If the gods cross them, we'll know instantly. But… we need to remember, some of the gods might be hiding in mortal forms. Observing."
Chirag looked around. "Then we watch everyone. Carefully. Trust each other—but prepare for betrayal."
One of the demon lords, old and scarred, spoke up. "And what of the sword? Will it be used?"
Chirag's gaze dropped to the ancient blade resting beside him. It pulsed gently, as if it could hear its own name.
"It will be our last option," he said. "This war isn't just to destroy. It's to change the world. If we start by burning it all down, we become no better than them."
The others nodded. There was still fear in the room, but also a new kind of energy—hope.
---
That evening, Chirag walked alone through the valley of shadows, a quiet place behind the castle where fallen warriors were honored. Statues of brave demons, humans, and rulers lined the path, each with a flame burning in their memory.
He stopped at an empty pedestal—one that had no statue yet.
It was waiting for someone.
"Siya told me this was for those whose story isn't finished," came Lunara's voice behind him.
Chirag didn't turn. "Do you think I'll die in this war?"
"I think," she said softly, "you'll do what you always do—fight not for yourself, but for everyone else."
He finally looked at her. "If I fall… make sure she lives."
Lunara nodded. "She would say the same about you."
They stood in silence as the wind moved through the flames.
---
By midnight, the Demon Realm had changed.
The dark sky was filled with quiet lights—floating runes, protective spells, and energy fields drawn from ancient magic. The capital city glowed with preparation. Soldiers stood at attention. Healers stocked potions. Spellcasters traced wards into the earth.
In the castle tower, Chirag and Siya sat with Kael, Lunara, and a few close fighters.
"This might be our last night of peace," Siya said, looking out the window.
"Then we make it count," Kael said, raising a drink. "To those who believed. And to those who still do."
They all raised their cups. No grand toasts. No loud songs. Just a quiet moment between people who had chosen to stand against gods.
When the meeting ended, Chirag and Siya walked through the halls one last time. Everything felt still, like the calm surface of a deep ocean. But under it, waves of fate were building.
They stopped in front of the old mural—a painting of a firebird rising from the ashes. It had been there for centuries.
"It always reminded me of you," Siya whispered.
Chirag traced the wing of the firebird with his finger. "Then I'll rise again. No matter what happens."
She nodded, tears in her eyes but strength in her heart. "Together."
---
As dawn approached, the sky began to shift.
Far above the clouds, distant lights blinked—too steady to be stars.
The gods were coming.
But this time, the world was ready.
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