The banquet stretched deep into the night.

Laughter filled every hall of Ember Fortress—  

the sound of goblets clashing, fire crackling, and drunken demons singing songs so off-key they might’ve counted as curses.  

For the first time in decades, the ten demon kings drank together.  

Even the oldest of them, the cynical lords who hadn’t left their territories in centuries,  

stayed to witness the wedding of the Bakian heir.

It should have been a night of legend.  

And in a way, it was.

Just not the kind anyone wanted.

Outside the hall, away from the music and the noise,  

a lone figure stepped quietly through the corridor’s shadows.

**Gusian Merdri**—the golden-haired envoy of the gods—  

moved with calm precision.  

No one questioned his exit; no one noticed the faint golden dust falling from his cloak.

The final rune etched upon his hand pulsed once,  

and then dissolved.

He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.  

“It is done,” he whispered.  

“By dawn… the heavens will reclaim their throne.”  

He turned toward the sky, eyes shining with fanatic pride.  

*Rejoice, mortals. Your gods return tonight.*

Then, without a sound, he vanished into the dark—  

leaving only the faint shimmer of divine light behind him.

Inside the fortress, the celebration raged on.  

Demons were sprawled across tables, still drinking;  

a few noble houses had started arm-wrestling tournaments on the floor;  

and the musicians had long given up on rhythm,  

now simply chanting, “Bakian! Bakian! Bakian!”

Jexy Bakian sat slouched in his chair, face buried in his hand.  

“…I’ve been kissed, crowned, toasted, and interrogated by twenty noble daughters.  

If this isn’t over soon, I’m declaring war on my own wedding.”

Beside him, Lyssara Veinflare managed a weak smile.  

“You survived a war against humans, a duel with me, and the Demon King’s sense of humor.  

You can handle this.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, “but at least in war, people didn’t try to dance with me.”

By the time the last toast ended, it was well past midnight.  

The guests retired to their chambers.  

The fortress grew quieter—  

though laughter and the faint hum of magic still hung in the air.

In their private chamber, Jexy and Lyssara stood awkwardly,  

surrounded by flowers and firelight.  

Neither spoke for a long while.  

Finally, Lyssara broke the silence.  

“So… uh… we’re… married.”  

“Apparently.”  

“…This is weird.”  

“Very.”  

Then, mercifully, the universe decided to save them both—  

with an explosion.

**BOOM!!**

The sky outside erupted in a blinding flash.  

The shockwave rattled the entire fortress.  

Windows shattered, banners tore, goblets crashed to the ground.

Jexy spun toward the window.  

“WHAT THE HELL—”  

He froze.

Above the fortress, the night sky was *alive*—  

etched with colossal, glowing runes that burned like suns.  

The constellations themselves twisted, forming circles of divine script older than the world.

Lyssara’s eyes widened. “Those aren’t demonic sigils…!”  

“Yeah,” Jexy hissed. “They’re divine. Which means—”

Another explosion split the sky.

Dozens of radiant **pillars of light** shot downward,  

slamming into the fortress grounds like meteors.  

The impact threw Jexy back as entire towers collapsed.

He roared, throwing open the window.  

“Who the HELL attacks me on my *wedding night*?!”

He leapt into the air, flames bursting from his feet,  

and unleashed a wave of azure-black energy that tore through the sky.  

Ancient symbols shattered in brilliant arcs—  

but for every rune destroyed, ten more appeared.

Within moments, the sleeping guests awoke.  

Hundreds of demons—nobles, soldiers, servants—rushed into the courtyards,  

summoning shields of flame and shadow to resist the divine bombardment.

The demon kings rose into the air one by one,  

their powers blazing across the heavens.  

“Those markings—” one shouted. “They’re not ours!”  

“Then whose—?”  

“Gods,” Freya hissed. “This is the language of the gods.”

For all their might, even the ten kings together could barely contain the storm.  

The entire fortress groaned, runes cracking, towers crumbling.  

Screams echoed from below as the light tore through the streets.

Yet still, the Bakians’ defensive wards held—barely.  

The ancient sigils of their bloodline flared in defiance,  

burning away much of the divine fire.  

Even so, the cost was catastrophic.  

Hundreds of demons fell.  

Dozens more burned with their wings spread,  

defending the fortress with their last breath.

Then, as suddenly as it began—  

the sky went silent.

The light faded.  

Smoke drifted upward.  

The heavens returned to their cold stars.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Rhazel landed beside Jexy, breathing heavily.  

“Is… is it over?”  

Jexy glanced upward. “…I don’t like that question.”

Because at that moment—  

the stars flickered again.  

And then, they *moved.*

A second circle of symbols ignited across the heavens—  

bigger, brighter, faster.  

At the same time, the *ground* beneath their feet erupted in light.  

Golden runes spread through every inch of stone.  

The entire fortress blazed with divine script.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Jexy roared.  

“Round two already?!”

He raised both hands, summoning the full power of his bloodline.  

Black flames spiraled outward, merging into a colossal seal aimed toward the sky.

“I SWEAR, IF YOU TOUCH MY CASTLE—!”

But before he could release it—  

the ground trembled.

The runes below and the runes above connected.  

Light met light.  

Heaven and earth became one burning circle.

A column of pure radiance tore through the sky,  

so massive it split clouds and cracked mountains.  

Every shadow in the Demon Realm vanished.

The force crushed the strongest demons to their knees.  

Even Dalph Bakian’s laughter finally stopped.

Within that light—twelve vast silhouettes began to form.

One by one, they emerged from the divine blaze:  

**1. AURION, THE FIRST LIGHT** — winged and armored, holding a sun forged into a blade.  

**2. SELVENA, THE VEILED DAWN** — goddess of judgment, eyes covered, wielding a staff of glass.  

**3. KORVAL, THE IRON SKY** — a war god wrapped in storm and chains.  

**4. ELYS, THE SINGING VOID** — an angelic maiden whose voice rippled through reality itself.  

**5. RYN’THAL, THE UNENDING SPEAR** — the hunter of stars, with a thousand phantom arms.  

**6. MARDAEN, THE FLAME THAT WEPT** — the god of sacrifice, his body eternally burning.  

**7. CALDREI, THE SILVER JUDGE** — calm, tall, wielding scales that weighed souls.  

**8. VORAN, THE BEAST OF HEAVENS** — four-faced, six-winged, his roar shaking dimensions.  

**9. ILYARA, THE MAIDEN OF STILL WATERS** — serene, cloaked in rippling liquid light.  

**10. NOXIEL, THE SILENT STAR** — the assassin god, whose shadow cut even moonlight.  

**11. ETHROS, THE MAKER OF BONES** — skeletal, crowned, clutching the first heart ever born.  

**12. LUMIAL, THE ARCHON OF CREATION** — their leader, radiant and vast,  

whose eyes burned brighter than any sun.

They hovered above the smoldering fortress, twelve beings of impossible scale.  

Their presence bent reality,  

their voices echoed like thunder layered with hymns.

> “We have returned,” said Lumial, his tone both divine and hollow.  

> “This world… forgets who made it.”  

Below, Jexy floated amid the ruin, his coat torn, flames swirling around him.  

He stared upward at the titans of light and muttered,  

“...Oh, perfect.  

I survived marriage—just to get divorced by heaven.”

The Twelve looked down upon the Demon Realm,  

their divine light swallowing the horizon.

The night of celebration had become  

**the dawn of war.**