RISE OF EROS

Samanuel and the angels obviously didn't want the truth to come out, but now with Crhono and Luza present, that was impossible. The truth would come out, and they were a little worried.

Now it wasn't just their reputation that was at stake, but Crhono might get angry, and he wasn't someone they wanted to make enemies with right now. Samanuel had the best relationship with Crhono, so he decided to be alone for this conversation.

They had known each other long before the war, a thousand years ago, and while they can't really call themselves friends, they had been comrades on several occasions, some of them life-or-death situations, so he planned to appeal to this when everything became known.

Despite these thoughts, Samanuel didn't intend to say what had happened with the ritual, nor about Luza and the other fallen angels. It was a selfish thought, but he preferred to remain silent before making enemies with everyone.

In short, if Luza didn't tell the truth, Samanuel would pretend he didn't know anything and didn't understand Luza's transformation and attack. Unfortunately, Luza wouldn't allow that.

While it's true that Luza had no obligation to tell what had happened and was fully capable of withstanding Crhono's interrogation, he didn't choose to remain silent, and as soon as Crhono asked, he told everything that had happened.

Luza knew he wouldn't be able to escape. Crhono wouldn't give him that chance, so before his death, he wanted to see his former comrades fall. This served as revenge in his head, as he'd noticed Samanuel was planning to hide the truth.

Obviously, the ease with which he told everything made Crhono doubt the veracity of his words, but when he looked at Samanuel to confirm what Luza had said, he didn't even have to ask.

It wasn't that Samanuel couldn't keep a poker face, but rather that Crhono's perception wasn't something easily evaded. Honestly, Crhono didn't feel Luza was lying; it was that she refused to believe him.

However, upon seeing Samanuel, he immediately understood that it was his past with Samanuel and the angels that made him think he was lying. It was his memories that prevented him from accepting what his perception was telling him.

Crhono couldn't believe that the angels, who had always been a righteous race and who sacrificed so much for this world during the war against the fallen god, had attempted such a selfish ritual.

Even worse, he couldn't believe that, even though they had failed and created this problem, they didn't even have the courage to admit it. If Crhono hadn't been keeping an eye on them, they wouldn't have found out until things had gotten too troublesome.

This disappointed Crhono, and he looked at Samanuel with mixed feelings, which made Samanuel feel depressed. He understood that he had done wrong and regretted it, but it was too late.

Crhono, not wanting to discuss this further, mercilessly murdered Luza. It took only a wave of his hand, and her life was extinguished. Luza didn't even scream, for it was all instantaneous.

Now, Samanuel and Crhono were left alone. Samanuel didn't know what to say. There were many thoughts in his head, but no words came out of his mouth, for he knew that no matter what he said, Crhono would no longer trust him.

Wanting to end this, Crhono was the one who spoke, "You no longer have the qualifications to take care of the divine body in your possession." These words startled Samanuel, who, despite his depression, glared fiercely at Crhono.

He was no fool. He understood the implications of Crhono's words. In short, he was using this as an excuse to take the body of the deceased god from the angels. Despite his outrage, Samanuel didn't lash out at Crhono, but instead calmed down and asked, "Is this how you intend to steal our divine body?" It was obvious he was being sarcastic.

Samanuel disdained Crhono's tactics, but the ancient dragon was unfazed and replied, "We would have come to ask for it eventually, as it is necessary to destroy the fallen god". Crhono paused briefly and added, "Zaros has already agreed to hand over his.

The beastmen have also agreed. I thought you and the angels would see the bigger picture and help as well". Sighing, Crhono continued, "The angels have always been just and protective of the world, so I knew that even if they refused at first, they would always understand, but I was wrong."

"Who the hell do you think you are, judging us?" Samanuel asked, annoyed. It bothered him that Crhono would portray them one way and then become disappointed in the portrait he himself had created.

Samanuel wasn't really upset about that, but because he understood that everything said was true, he couldn't accept it. Crhono wasn't bothered by his outburst and replied, "If they did it once, they'll do it again."

"They've fallen into greed and self-centeredness," Crhono concluded. Although it was all true, it only made Samanuel more upset. He shouted, "It's easy for you to say that, when it wasn't your race that sacrificed for nothing! Tell me, how many of my people are left? Who thanked us? Tell me!"

Crhono looked at Samanuel sadly and replied, "The fact that you have to ask proves my point." These words stunned the agitated Samanuel. Without waiting for him to react, Crhono continued, "The angels have never complained about their sacrifices. They never sought glory or recognition. That was their essence: sacrifice and protection."

Samanuel was devastated, for it was true. They certainly hadn't fallen like Luza in the ritual, but they had definitely lost their essence; they were no longer completely selfless.

Crhono didn't continue; he just walked, and as he passed Samanuel, he said, "If your pride won't allow it, trick him by saying you don't have the strength to stop me." Without waiting for him to say anything, Crhono disappeared.

Samanuel stood there, gritting his teeth and holding his hands in frustration. As much as he didn't want to accept it, what Crhono had said was not a lie, and the truth is usually painful.

Crhono wasted no time, gathering the divine body the angels were protecting and taking it with him without looking back. Although he no longer cared about the angels, the change in their behavior made him even more distrustful than before.

That's why Crhono asked the young dragon to continue keeping watch and even told him he would send reinforcements if anything happened. Meanwhile, the echoes of war resounded across every corner of the continent, where the sun had been covered by thick, dark clouds that foreshadowed chaos.

The northern elves and the beastmen, guardians of the sacred bodies of deceased gods, stood at a crossroads of terror and determination. Both races had maintained their ancestral silence, protecting the remains of those who had once been divine.

However, two evil forces, Esternet and Lismat, had set their sights on those sacred bodies, ready to unleash a tide of desolation to gain power. The first battle erupted on the frozen northern tundra, where Esternet, with her army of shadows and abominable creatures, launched themselves against the elves.

Fog, thick and laden with dark magic, covered the terrain while the elves' light arrows shone brightly, cutting the air like shooting stars. The elven warriors, skilled as ever, fell into formation, their bows bending with age-old precision, but Esternet's ferocity was relentless, and the earth shook beneath the footsteps of her monsters.

A piercing scream echoed as a three-headed troll burst into the elven lines, its claws ripping through the elven armor like paper. The warriors of light counterattacked with a display of elemental magic, blue flames dancing in the air, closing in on the monster with divine rage. Still, even the sacred fire seemed powerless against the darkened hatred emanating from their enemy. The battlefield transformed into a sea of ​​blood and despair.

Meanwhile, further south, Lismat had gathered her legion of beastmen, who, relying on their savagery and fury, seized the border where the body of the deceased god lay in the beastmen's hands.

The atmosphere vibrated with the sound of primal roars and the gnashing of fangs. With the sun at her back, Lismat led her charge, her powerful figure illuminated by a golden light, a sign of her boundless ambition.

The battle was a whirlwind of warring clans. Beastmen, their coats shining and their eyes greedy, launched themselves at the guardians, who defended their sacred legacy.

A ferocious wolf warrior, his dark fur stained with dust and sweat, rose before Lismat. In an instant, two worlds collided: Lismat's bestial strength met the warrior's ancestral ferocity, their claws clashing in a deafening roar. Around them, the battle raged, the ground drenched in a cocktail of blood and heroism.

The strategies of both sides clashed with unprecedented ferocity; The wind was an indifferent spectator, stirring the flags that fluttered proudly on each flank. Both leaders were determined to take what they considered theirs, and chaos erupted like a raging river, sweeping away everything in its path.

Turn after turn in the north, Esternet tried to break the elven defense. For days, his army of shadows had besieged relentlessly, while the elves, exhausted but unbreakable, displayed their magical skills.

The air was filled with ancient murmurs, invoking ancient spirits who answered the call. With each spell cast, a wave of light grew, pushing the shadows back, but exhaustion began to tear down the walls of resistance.

The battles were simultaneous, an echo of pain and honor. Each fallen spirit, each warrior who surrendered to death, left a trail of energy that permeated the surroundings, and those energies could be felt crossing between the cold lands of the north and the wild forests of the south.

The cry of a wounded elf echoed in the valleys, while a beastman, his chest pierced by an arrow, fell before the cruel embrace of the earth. Both armies were in a constant tug-of-war, each leader seeking to exploit the slightest mistake from their opponent.

Esternet, in a last-ditch attempt to gain an advantage, conjured a shadowstorm, a dark maelstrom that engulfed the elves, causing them to stagger in the darkness. Cries of fury and despair echoed as the storm struck fear into the hearts of the brave.

Lismat, noticing the weakness in the beastmen's ranks, issued her challenge from atop a hill. It was a call to arms, a cry that pierced the confusion of battle and resonated in the hearts of all. At her voice, the beastmen regrouped, launching a single charge against the line of defenders.

The earth shook beneath their feet as they surged forward in a ferocious surge. However, even as chaos reigned, both armies began to realize that their true goals lay not only in triumph over the other but in preventing the true enemy from achieving what it sought.

Although both leaders desired power, they were also aware that there was an even darker force lurking behind them. Time passed, and dawn turned to dusk, the sky to fire as night fell.

Although both sides barely managed to hold off the other's advance, they knew they must join forces to stand against Esternet and Lismat. The spirit of the battle was changing; enmities began to fade, and the echo of ancient alliances resurfaced in the souls of those fighting.

Urging beastmen and elves to recognize that the true enemy was not each other, but the one who sought chaos to control the continent. Thus, with the night as their witness, the final tumult emerged in a struggle not only for the bodies of the gods but for the future of the entire continent.

As the shadows fell, the roar of the waves of war continued, but a new hope began to blossom in the hearts of the warriors. A hope that, perhaps, could unite even the most disparate enemies.