The Guardian gods

While the three families of god were having their own moment, the empire was busy preparing for the end. Words about the end of the war were spreading, leaving everyone in a state of tense anticipation. The mages, the goblins, and all the other factions put aside their differences and ambitions, knowing that their survival depended on a united front.

The mage council and the ogre generals, who once held a deep-seated disdain for one another, were now discussing tactics together. Their animosity was still there, but it was hidden well beneath a veneer of professional necessity. The Emperor, in the absence of Vellok, was a silent witness to this unexpected unity.

He couldn't help but wonder: what if they had started this way from the beginning? What if they had abandoned the mages' singular path and forged a new, more inclusive way forward for themselves and the empire?

He quickly pushed the thought away. It was a luxury he could not afford. At the edge of his vision, the percentage of their imminent takeover, once at a terrifying 80%, had now fallen to 75%, and a trend line showed that it was still falling. Their current unity was not a sign of victory, but a desperate and necessary measure against an overwhelming and ever-present threat.

The empire, though still wary of the ratfolk who were a constant reminder of the type of problem they were for their people, had to put their internal conflicts aside for now. The demons were pressing into their homelands, leaving them no space to live and breathe. All their citizens had been moved to safe borders, but the space wasn't much and was forced to be shared, leading to predictable conflicts. This forced cohabitation was the worst thing that could happen to their society, and the nobles were loud in their complaints.

Meanwhile, Vellok was deep in the solar system, a solitary figure searching for a preferable battlefield. His opponent, the unknown god known as Ikenga, had shown a terrifying ability to sow a planet, using its power as a driving force for his own strength. From all observations, this was something possible with any celestial body.

Therefore, Vellok's target was a star. His strategy was simple and brilliant: his opponent's seeds could not take hold in such an inferno and would be burned away. Most importantly, a star was in Vellok's favor. As a light elemental mage, his powers would be at their absolute zenith near a sun, giving him a massive advantage in the final, decisive confrontation. He hopefully might not need to tap deeply into the angel power to end this.

He passed countless celestial bodies, each a potential trap for the coming confrontation. He was searching for not just any star, but a specific one a beacon of pure, unadulterated light that resonated with his very soul.

He found it, a magnificent star burning with a steady, intense brilliance. Its presence was a silent, overwhelming force, its light a tangible, almost holy energy that washed over him. Vellok, as a light mage, felt no fear of its incredible heat or destructive fire. Instead, he felt a profound connection, as if he had come home.

He knew this star was the perfect counter to Ikenga. His seeds, which could seeds and weaponize entire planets, would be instantly annihilated by the star's radiant energy. ellok began his final preparations, his arms spread wide as he reached out with his will, calling for his mage tower, his ultimate station of power.

Vellok, despite his immense strength, recognized his own limitations. A force of nature on this scale was not so easily controlled, even by a sixth-tier mage. He could tap into his angel power, but that was a path he was determined to avoid, its cost far too high. So he needed his mage tower. The colossal construct, his magnum opus of magi-tech, was designed to harness, channel, and regulate the most volatile energies. It was a conduit for his will, and a shield against the star's raw, untamed power.

The space above the start cracked and shattered as the tower apperance was seen. As the mage tower began to materialize from the depths of space, its stone like spires and intricate carvings glinting in the star's blinding light, Vellok knew his plan was falling into place.

Once the tower was fully in place, Vellok quickly made his way to its core. This was his command center, the heart of the tower, and from here he would be able to control the volatile energy of the star. With his hands on the core, Vellok began to channel his power into the tower, and the tower in turn began to stabilize the star's energy, making it easier for him to harvest its light. With the tower now his, the star was his to command, and he was ready for Ikenga.

Vellok flew out of the spire, wings of pure light beating behind him as he re-entered the vacuum of space. He paused, gazing at a distant star, its light a stark contrast to the brilliant energy now radiating from his own form. With a final, lingering look, he turned, his wings dissolving into a single point of light that shot away from the star, accelerating toward his home.

The journey was a blur, lasting only a few minutes before his vibrant planet came into view. A swirling portal of shimmering energy opened directly in his path, and he passed through it without hesitation. In a flash, he was back in the familiar grandeur of the palace.

"You are back," his brother's voice, the Emperor, echoed from behind him. Vellok stiffened momentarily, then a soft sigh escaped his lips. He'd forgotten his brother's unique talent—a foresight that always seemed to put him in the right place at the right time. Vellok knew if they were just a bit stronger, a bit more powerful, his brother's gift might have been enough to prevent the impending catastrophe.

He turned to face him. "Yes, I am," Vellok said simply. As he spoke, his simple robes shimmered and shifted, reforming into a magnificent suit of golden armor. The wings of light reformed behind him, their radiance illuminating his features. His long, golden hair flowed freely, as if caught in a gentle breeze.

"Beautiful," the Emperor breathed, his eyes wide with admiration for his brother's transformation.

Vellok's face, now radiant with a luminous glow, held a hint of sorrow beneath its splendor. "A beauty that comes with a price," he replied, the weight of his words hanging in the air between them.

"Let's get these demons away from our home," the Emperor's voice was cold and resolute. By the time Vellok blinked, his brother was gone, a phantom of resolve now charging toward the front lines.

Vellok sighed, a golden portal swirling open before him. He stepped through, his form rematerializing high above the battlefield. His presence was a beacon, a brilliant light that cascaded down onto the Imperial army below, bathing them in a warm, protective glow. In the distance, the demonic forces recoiled, their forms momentarily illuminated before the corrupted, perpetual twilight of the battlefield swallowed them once more.

An unspoken challenge passed between them as two of the demons' Sixth-tier mages surged forward. The sky began to rumble, a deep, guttural sound that shook the very foundations of the world. Lightning, impossibly loud and deafening, began to crackle and flash across the heavens.

It started with a single drop of rain, a drop that fell everywhere at once. A storm unlike any other was born, one that blanketed the entire planet in its fury. Lightning and torrential rain lashed down without mercy. For a single, terrifying second, the entire world went black. All that remained was Vellok, a lone figure glowing brilliantly in the heart of the storm.

In the deafening darkness, the demons were met with the ominous rumble of the ground beneath them, followed by a blinding flash of lightning.

The lightning didn't strike anything. Its purpose was far more terrifying: to illuminate what was coming. The demons' eyes were met with a sight of impossible scale—a colossal wave of water, reaching toward the sky, now descending upon them.

No corner of the world was safe; the wave was everywhere at once. One of the Sixth-tier mages made a simple, falling gesture with his hand, and the wave rushed forward, its sound like a million horses stampeding across the plains.

Panic seized the demons. Their only escape was back through their Abyss portal, but they had advanced too far, and it was now a distant point on the horizon. The few demons who could fly took to the air, only to be struck down by lightning bolts that incinerated them into ash upon contact. The lightning mage was relentless, ensuring no one escaped.

With the demons trapped, the immense wall of water descended, swallowing the entire army whole. The wave never stopped, filling every crevice and nook of the land.