Sion Ragnar.
Heir of the Persia Dukedom.
Son of Duke John Ragnar.
Noble blood of the Clover Kingdom.
Ambushed during a political coup.
Left for dead.
Allen’s soul flinched as it was pulled into the dying vessel.
“He is your vessel now,” Aria’s voice echoed, steady as fate. “Your new life. Your new battlefield.”
As the light of the gods dissolved into darkness, her final words followed him like a curse and a command:
“You are no longer a king.
You are a sword.
Wielded against the abyss.”
Within the Depths of Sion’s Coma
Silence ruled the outer world. But within the boy’s fractured mind, light bloomed once more—soft and golden, like the first sunrise after a storm.
A melody—gentle, ancient—drifted across the void.
Then came the girl.
She appeared like a whisper between heartbeats: small, radiant, with wings of white fire and hair spun from platinum light. Though she looked like a child, her eyes held the weight of endless stars.
“I was starting to think you’d never wake up,” she said, smiling gently.
Allen blinked, unsure if he was dreaming again. “Who… are you?”
“I’m Raphael,” she said. “A divine replica of Goddess Aria. Think of me as your guide. Your partner. Your… irritating sidekick, if you decide to be difficult.”
Allen sighed. “Of course the gods would send me a child.”
Her smile narrowed into a glare. “I’m older than your entire continent, you arrogant fossil.”
Before Allen could reply, she lifted a hand—and the void bent to her will.
Twelve winged shadows appeared behind her—titanic figures twisted into divine nightmares. Each pulsed with an aura that made Allen’s soul recoil.
“The Twelve Fallen Angels,” Raphael said, her tone now grave. “Each one a former divine, cast from grace. Each now commands a dominion of terror. And together… they intend to turn this world into a grave.”
As she spoke, their names echoed like curses carved into fate:
---
1. Azareth the Flame Reaper – Annihilator of dimensions. His fire consumes reality itself.
2. Serikael the Mirror Queen – Master of illusion. Fights with your own reflection—twisted, perfect, deadly.
3. Tharos the Beast-Hammer – A living cataclysm. Half-beast, half-god, all destruction.
4. Lucifer the Hollow Light – Light incarnate, but empty. His magic blinds, sears, and erases memory.
5. Naamah the Whispering Widow – A siren of sorrow. She feeds on your despair… and your joy.
6. Gravax the Chain-Tyrant – Wielder of soul-binding chains. Anti-magic incarnate. Escape is impossible.
7. Velmorak the Storm Herald – The storm given flesh. Thunder, wind, ruin—his voice is lightning.
8. Zaletha the Chrono-Witch – Time bends to her will. She can freeze you forever… or kill you yesterday.
9. Ithuriel the Soul-Eater – Devours essence. Grows stronger with every soul consumed.
10. Maerion the Screaming Choir – A fused legion of angels, singing only in agony. They kill with sound.
11. Dretharion the Broken Star – The embodiment of entropy. He commands gravity, meteors… extinction.
12. Elkaros the First Sin – Their creator. Their god. A being equal in power to Aria herself.
---
Allen stared at the monstrous pantheon. “You expect me to fight those?”
Raphael nodded, calm but firm. “With time, yes.”
She floated closer, her wings folding like petals.
“Your body will evolve,” she said. “Your soul carries centuries of mastery. War lives in your blood. You’ll rise beyond even the Grandmasters of this world. And when your sword and spirit align, you’ll touch the forbidden realm—the 11th Circle of Magic. Perhaps even beyond.”
Allen stared into the horizon of shadows. His hands trembled—but not with fear. With purpose.
“Then we begin.”
The light around them began to fade.
But before it vanished, Raphael’s voice sharpened.
“One more thing, King…”
Her wings dimmed slightly, her tone edged with warning.
“The world believes Sion Ragnar is dead. When you awaken… you will be reborn. But not welcomed. Those who tried to kill you before will try again. And the first of the Twelve…”
Her eyes narrowed.
“…has already begun to move.”
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