That was that day, but it soon passed. The sun rose with a strange gentleness over the continent's horizon. There were no storms, no tremors, no signs of impending evil. The birds chirped as if the memory of terror no longer existed.

It was a perfect day. And yet, Andrew woke with a furrowed brow, his body tense, and a disquieting feeling scraping his spine like nails on stone. His wife, Helena, still slept, her face serene in his arms. Around them, the scent of calm wafted, but Andrew knew that stillness was nothing more than an illusion.

Two years without word from Purgatory. Two years of absence from Esternet and Lismat, the fallen angels. Two years where humanity began to forget, but He couldn't afford that luxury.

He still felt the echoes of the battle against the god of light he had assimilated, and he knew that power wasn't surrendered, but taken away. Like all divine power, it demanded balance… and a price.

He rose silently, donning a light robe before stepping out onto the white obsidian balcony. From there, he gazed out at the vastness of the sea in the distance, where his children and guardians trained early in the morning, even though it was a day of rest.

The children were now old enough to begin training. Elidyr, who had been assisting them, emerged from the water as a transparent, shimmering figure. He approached, and with his voice flowing like a serene river, he said, "Your pulse has quickened, Andrew. It's unusual for you."

"You've noticed it…" Andrew replied, without taking his eyes off the horizon. "Something is approaching. I don't know what, but I sense it." "You're right. Last night I detected a shift in the energy in the Northlands. A fracture, small… but ancient.

Something opened a rift in the fabric of the plane," Elidyr said unexpectedly. Andrew clenched his fists and asked, "Purgatory?" To which Elidyr replied, "I don't know. It's subtle, as if someone knew how to hide even from me. As if a forgotten memory were trying to resurface."

Hours later, in Sereda's Arcanist Tower, the embers of a black candle burned without consuming the wax. It was a bad omen. The mage, wrapped in deep blue robes, summoned visions of time with her grimoire floating at her side. Andrew, Chrono, Zaros, and Elidyr surrounded her.

"This is what I saw last night," Sereda said, opening her palm. An illusory image emerged: a hooded figure walking through the frozen northern wastes, where the temples of the fallen celestials once stood.

"Is it one of them?" Chrono asked. "I can't say for sure. Her energy is covered by a spiritual mesh that blocks even my senses, but the symbol she left behind…" He pointed to the floor of his tower, where a spiraling engraving of angelic lettering pulsed with black light.

"That is… Purgatory language," Zaros whispered, his gaze hardened. Though he looked young, his vampiric memory was not forgetful. "Then it's time to act," Andrew declared, adding, "If they're preparing something, we must get there first."

"Will you send your agents to investigate?" Elidyr asked. "Not yet. I'd rather go myself, but first… I want to secure the border with the beastmen. The council hasn't responded to my recent missives. I want to know if they still stand firm."

The journey through the Root Portal was almost immediate. Andrew and Chrono appeared in the region of Ghal'Toran, where the beastmen had erected their citadel atop the ancient titan trees.

The council received them with honor, but with visible tension. Of the five elders, three were present. The fourth had fallen ill… and the fifth, they said, was missing.

"Missing?" Andrew repeated, frowning. "He left two moons ago, in search of an old sacred altar he detected in his dreams. We haven't heard from him since," replied the silver-maned, lion-bodied Raktar elder.

Chrono narrowed his eyes. "Did you have an oracle, Raktar?" To which Chrono replied, "No… but several of our shamans have had similar visions. Something is moving beneath the earth, deep within. Something… that smells of celestial decay."

Andrew understood what that meant. The signs were there, everywhere. They couldn't afford to wait any longer. Back at his temple in Comers, Andrew gathered his wives, concubines, and companions. He had made a decision.

"The seal is close to breaking, but we cannot force it. Every fragment I release consumes a part of me." He removed his shirt, revealing the divine symbol burning with a dull golden glow over his torso.

"Do you want to keep trying to free him now?" Candice asked, worried. "There's no time. If I let it go, I'll never be able to absorb the war deities when they reach my hands. I need to break the eighth seal," Andrew declared.

One by one, his wives approached. The pact between them was firm. There was no jealousy or rivalry, but a union based on a common mission. They loved Andrew, but more than that, they understood the role he played in saving the world.

That night, like so many others, the halls of the pleasure house echoed with moans, soft laughter, words of love, and natural magic. Andrew not only made love, he also shared his soul. Each encounter brought him one step closer to awakening the sealed power.

And at the climax of the final union, as the moon reached its zenith, the seal on the eighth fragment finally cracked. A torrent of light passed through him. Pain. Ecstasy. Visions. Echoes of the past.

Andrew fell to his knees. His body burned, but it wasn't physical fire. It was divinity. His wives surrounded him with tears and whispers of encouragement. Elidyr appeared, alarmed by the released energy.

"Did you make it?" he asked. "Yes... but it's not enough," Andrew whispered, adding, "Purgatory is already moving. The seal was broken just in time. I have no other choice. I must absorb the war bodies. Now."

Deep within Zaros's castle, where the sacred chambers were kept, the body of the ancient god of war lay in magical suspension. His heart no longer beat, but his divinity held.

Zaros had prepared the rituals for years. But now... he hesitated. "Are you sure about this, Andrew? If something goes wrong, you could be consumed by fury," but Andrew was firm. "I know, but there's no time. If I don't, I won't be able to face what's coming."

The vampire nodded gravely. Sereda and Elidyr took their places as magical guides. Chrono cast containment seals. Andrew stood near the body—this time he wouldn't use his wives, as it was a different situation—and then the process began.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, in a cave forgotten by time, two winged figures stood before a sacred altar covered in dust. Esternet watched the altar with her golden eyes, while Lismat placed a black crystal over a celestial mark.

"It has begun," said Lismat. "Yes... Andrew has broken the eighth seal. Perfect," Esternet said. "Then the roar approaches... And we," Esternet smiled as she added, "We will be the fire that drowns it."