Birth of the Ruler: The Emergence of the Primordial Race

At the Northern Primordial World, the light of the glowing star-like sun kissed the horizon, casting golden fingers across the land and gently peeling away the veil of night. The surrounding mountains, towering hills, and age-old trees shimmered in radiant hues as though the world itself had been polished anew. Dust rose in swirling trails behind the moving figures, celestial forces marching like silent shadows, weaving through nature's twisted maze. Unlike before, they no longer used the open, well-trodden paths. Instead, they slipped around jagged mountains and beneath the canopy of towering, ancient trees to avoid the looming danger of colossal Primordial Beasts, creatures that had been deceitfully driven from their sacred habitats by the scheming hands of the Devout Demons.

Their feet fell in disciplined rhythm, each step soft but sure, echoing the composure of seasoned soldiers threading carefully through enemy lines. Hildred, the Astro Lord, led them from the front, his presence like a beacon amidst the shadows, while Dunstan and Lumina flanked the group, orchestrating their movements with sharp eyes and steady commands, always alert to any ripple of danger in the stillness around them.

At the center of the company, four massive boxes, each requiring the combined strength of six Astro members, were being hauled with visible strain, their weight symbolic of the burden this mission carried. Among the others at the rear who carried nothing, murmurs fluttered like restless birds, slipping through the silence.

"When will this end? I thought we had this planned," whispered a voice from among Lumina's subordinates, his tone coated with quiet frustration.

"Yeah… I figured it'd be over in a couple of weeks when we kicked off this operation," replied a Gravity Astro member beside him, his voice low but laced with disbelief. "Now look at us, still stuck, marching like ghosts through a land we tried to roll chaos on."

"That's the funniest part," the first murmured again. "We initiated the move, knowing we'd face a few Flashstamps on the way, but now… we're tiptoeing over the bridge of death like we're prey in someone else's hunt."

But even the shadows couldn't hide their voices from sharp ears.

Beorn, ever-watchful, his ears pricked by their trailing conversation, drifted silently toward them from the rear like a silent predator. His voice cracked like a whip across the air, calm, but slicing.

"You two should stop the act of whispering behind others' backs."

His tone cut through their murmuring like a blade through butter. A dry, cold wave rolled down their spines as their bodies froze, their hearts thudding loud in the silence, as if afraid of being heard. They hadn't seen him approach, his presence slipped in like a creeping storm. Their whispers, now shattered by guilt, dissolved into the hush of the marching wind.

Their sweating gaze slowly turned to the source of the voice, its presence crashing down like a thunderclap through a stormy sky.

"This war isn't born from anyone's fault, it was forged in the bones of fate," Beorn said, his voice gritty, steady. "A treaty between the Celestials and the Demons? That's a mirage. It was never meant to last, not with the Demons' hunger stretching wider than the abyss."

Beorn was still speaking when a sudden voice, sharp yet soft as silk drawn over steel, sliced through the air.

"Halt."

Hildred's single command stilled the earth beneath them.

Lumina and Dunstan instantly stopped, their open right hands stretched backward like silent flags, signaling their comrades to freeze mid-step.

"What's going on?" whispered a trembling member of the Aqua Astro, his voice trembling like leaves under frost.

"Shhh…" Lumina hissed, her right index finger raised, pressed tightly to her lips like a warning etched in silence.

Even Dunstan and Lumina, seasoned as they were, didn't know what was wrong, until...

"The ground," Beorn said darkly, pointing a firm finger.

All eyes dropped.

Though faint, the subtle bounce of soil was there, pulsing gently, rhythmically, like a hidden heartbeat beneath a corpse.

And with that, the illusion of calm shattered, like a bolt of lightning cleaving an ancient boulder in half.

"How did we get detected? These uniforms were professionally made to erase our presence!" a panicked Aqua Astro member blurted.

"I think… we were deceived," muttered another, this time from the Gravity Astro, his voice caught between disbelief and fear.

Confusion swelled like a rising tide, no one could explain what had failed.

"If my thinking serves me," Beorn began, voice calm like the eye of a storm, "it's not the uniforms. It's the echo, our steps disturbed the earth. They felt us, not saw us."

"In other words, they sensed us through the vibrations," he added.

"Good you have a very good instinct." Hildred confirmed, his tone flat but grim.

Lumina narrowed her eyes. "Why do you suddenly sound… different?"

Beorn turned to her, her piercing gaze locking onto his like arrows onto prey. His eyes widened as if caught in a spotlight. Before he could stammer an answer, "You've been acting smarter than the Beorn I knew," she said, her voice laced with suspicion and clarity.

Beorn chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head, eyes darting away like a cornered thief.

"Let's leave that for now... and face what's coming," he muttered, words falling heavy like iron chains.

Then, as if the very sky responded to their readiness, the massive rock to their left, its upper half shattered in an instant, torn apart as though by a celestial strike. A blinding storm of debris rolled forward, furious and untamed, hurling fragments of boulders and earth toward them. A dust wall rose high, cloaking their vision in a storm of blindness, wrapping the group in suffocating silence.

Unable to see the rest of the falling debris, they moved back slowly, relying on the tremors echoing beneath their boots.

Then, two people raised their hands instinctively toward the dust-filled void.

"Whaaat!"

Their voices cracked in stunned unison. Others followed their gaze, breath held hostage.

Dark, colossal shadows loomed, many of them, advancing through the thick fog like ancient giants pulled from myth.

"What the hell…" Dunstan whispered, every word etched in disbelief.

"A terrible thing… at the worst possible moment," Hildred muttered, a cold spiral of wind escaping from the tight slit between his lips.

Back at the southern battleground, Karl emerged, his presence bold and crackling like a thunderclap splitting a silent sky.

"Boss! We're back!" he bellowed, his right hand lifted high, slicing through the air like a banner of defiance. Behind him strode Theodric, Lunara, and Kola, their steps steady, resolute like soldiers returning from the edge of the world.

Nyxander, standing like a bastion amidst chaos, couldn't help but allow a smile to ghost across his hardened face. The moment shimmered, a breath between storms, hope reborn in the form of comrades.

But serenity shattered in the blink of an eye, as the distance between them closed, Karl, followed by the others, collapsed to their knees, their bodies folding like felled trees.

Each clutched their chest in agonizing synchrony, as if a phantom hand gripped their hearts and twisted.

Nyxander's eyes widened, the world slowing to a crawl.

His right hand stretched instinctively forward, a silent plea and shield all in one. "You guys should step back," he warned, his voice a rough whisper swallowed by the wind.

He took a stride forward, but the Primordial Beasts seized the chance like wolves lunging at blood.

From every angle, beams and blasts rained down in chaotic fury, violent spears of energy that ripped through the air like the wrath of titans.

Nyxander moved like a phantom in motion, leaping, sliding, sidestepping with uncanny grace, his feet whispering across the battlefield. Every dodge left a finger's breadth between death and survival.

Still, he pushed forward, closing the gap between himself and his fallen comrades, then, the Beast King's eyes widened, a guttural hum escaping his maw as something astonishing stirred.

Back at the scene, amidst the fury of bombardment, Nyxander's narrowed gaze locked onto his attacker, eager to find an opening When a familiar voice rolled through the tempest like an anchor. "Boss, you don't have to worry about us," Karl said.

Nyxander's gaze flickered, drawn like a compass needle to the speaker. The Primordial Beasts too, momentarily paused, as if sensing a shift in the tide.

From the four kneeling warriors, a surge erupted, deep, violent, radiant. A brilliant violet flame, tinged with pure Immortal essence, unfurled from their bodies like an awakened storm. It crackled and danced with primal power, painting the air in strokes of radiant purple.

Nyxander stood stunned, his expression caught between awe and disbelief. Theodric's voice rang out, calm as steel in the fire: "You can go all out with the beast's leader, leave its minions to us."

That voice, steady, bold, snapped Nyxander out of his stupor like a bell tolling across a battlefield. "Oh… humm." He muttered, the corners of his lips twitching as if caught between pride and urgency.

"Trust us, boss," Lunara added, her voice laced with quiet fire, her dagger blades pulsing faintly at her side.

"Ha… yeah, sure," Nyxander said, then turned his back at them. "Then I'll leave them to you."