The Grand Arena, once the proud symbol of continental power,
lay shattered under the setting sun.
Ash floated like snow.
The broken thrones of the world's ancient powers smoldered among the ruins.
The crowd, what remained of it, watched in stunned silence.
Because they knew.
Something greater than any king, any guild, any dragonborn bloodline —
had risen.
Kaelen Steps Forward
Kaelen stood atop the last unbroken platform,
cloak torn, armor scorched,
but his silver-blue eyes burned brighter than any sun.
Behind him,
his companions — now marked with the Eternal Sovereign Bloodline —
stood proudly.
Mira: silent, sharp, dangerous.
Riven: wild flame incarnate.
Selina: radiant and serene.
Eren and Damon: towering shields of Will.
Lyanna: weaving unseen Sovereign arrays into the very wind.
Lyra: floating slightly above ground, a true Sky Sovereign.
And across the battlefield,
Aria stood too —
silverfire burning around her form,
Seren and Vaelen flanking her like loyal shadows.
They had not broken.
They had transformed.
The Declaration
Kaelen stepped forward, his voice carrying effortlessly across the ruins.
Not shouting.
Not demanding.
Only speaking —
and the world listened.
"You have seen it."
"You have felt it."
"The old ways are broken."
He swept his gaze across the remnants of kings, queens, guildmasters, and legacy heirs.
"You fought to hold your crowns.
You bled to hold your chains.
You sent assassins.
You summoned monsters.
You prayed to gods who long ago abandoned you."
"And still, we stand."
A ripple swept through the surviving Delegations.
Some dropped their heads.
Some clenched their fists.
Some turned away, unable to meet his gaze.
Kaelen continued:
"We are not your heirs.
We are not your servants.
We are Sovereigns."
The cracked-crown banners fluttered behind him — no longer a symbol of rebellion.
A symbol of destiny.
The Founding of a New Nation
Kaelen raised Astryn high —
the blade gleaming with Sovereign light, echoing across broken stone and silent souls.
"From this day forth,
Heartland is no longer a vassal of broken crowns.
We are a Sovereign Nation.
We bow to no throne.
We serve no guild.
We forge our own destiny."
"The Nation of Sovereigns is born."
The world froze.
And then the System answered:
[System Notification]
[Eternal Sovereign Nation: Heartland - Founded.]
[Sovereign Domain Status: Rising.]
[World Sovereign Maps: Updating.]
[Warning: Global Balance Destabilized.]
[Hostility from Ancient Powers Expected.]
[Congratulations.
You have claimed your first Seat in the New Age.]
The Reaction
Far away, in palaces carved into living mountains,
in hidden cities beneath endless oceans,
in skyrealms beyond mortal sight,
ancient Sovereign Wills stirred.
Old powers snarled in rage.
Others laughed in glee.
Some wept quietly, realizing they had waited too long.
Because a new force had risen.
And it would not be contained.
Not by walls.
Not by traditions.
Not by gods.
Aria's Emotions
Across the battlefield, Aria pressed a hand over her heart.
Her blade lowered slowly.
A tear slipped free,
not from weakness,
but from the unbearable, overwhelming certainty:
"This is the world we dreamed of."
Beside her, Seren and Vaelen knelt silently —
not to Kaelen as a king,
but to the Sovereign Dream that now filled the very air.
Kaelen's Vow
Kaelen lowered Astryn.
He looked to his family.
To his companions.
To the survivors of the old world.
And he spoke once more — a promise burned into the marrow of reality itself:
"We will build a Nation that will never fall.
We will create a home where Sovereigns walk free.
We will forge realms so bright that even the stars must bow."
The Sovereign Winds howled.
The cracked-crown banners blazed.
And the first true Nation of Sovereigns rose into the new Age.