Return of the Mythic Bloodline

The weapons clashed; battle cries and sparks erupted everywhere. The land beneath them shook and slowly turned crimson as, one after another, lifeless bodies fell to the ground—humans and demons alike.

The clash had long surpassed the level of mortals. Demi-gods, Demon Sovereign, and Archdemons had also begun fighting in the skies. The war had reached a scale that would be etched into the history of the Western Continent, remembered even thousands of years later. In the near future, every powerful being who participated in this war would be spoken of in tales and immortalized in poems of heroes. The only uncertainty was who would be hailed as the hero, for history is always written—and manipulated—by the victors.

Until now, neither the humans nor the demons had gained the upper hand, as the aces of both sides had been holding back their true power. However, once the Thunderbanes decided to go all out, the demons no longer held back either and retaliated with an army twice the size of the human forces.

This time, it wasn't only the demons or the soldiers of the empire who suffered casualties. The Thunderbanes themselves suffered greatly under the might of the Demon Lords commanding the opposing army. Although none of the Thunderbanes perished, many of their disciples fell one after another, each death reducing the overall might of the Thunderbanes exponentially. Cultivators who awakened the lightning attribute outside the Bane family were extremely rare, making the loss of these disciples especially devastating.

The more cultivators fell in the war, the more beneficial it became for the demons, who thrived by cultivating the negative energy born from death, fear, and agony. With each passing day, the strength of the surviving demons grew at an alarming rate. However, the humans experienced a similar effect. Killing demons rewarded them with purer Soulforce and deeper insights toward their breakthroughs, causing many to advance amidst the battlefield itself.

As a result, even though the numbers of both demons and humans were steadily decreasing, the scale and devastation of the clashes between the two races did not diminish in the slightest.

Each night, the battle continued, turning the air thick and heavy with the metallic stench of blood. When the sun rose, both sides retreated to rest and tend to their wounds, an unspoken truce formed through actions rather than words.

The catastrophic war, even at such a scale, was helplessly stretched on for another two and a half years as neither side was willing to yield. The emperor continued to send more and more warriors as reinforcements, striving to match the ever-increasing strength of the demons.

Although every surviving soldier had benefited immensely from the crucible of war, there was one whose growth left both demons and humans shaken to their core.

To mankind, he was hailed as a hero sent by the heavens themselves—an incarnation of divine wrath meant to secure their victory.

To the demons, he became a nightmare so vivid that even sleep offered no escape; they saw him even in the daylight when they dared to close their eyes.

The warrior was none other than Taranis El Thunderbane.

Yet on the battlefields, that name had been eclipsed by a far more feared title—

The God of Lightning and Thunder.

Being born with divinity, Taranis had already been growing at an astounding rate, both physically and mentally. However, once he began slaying the demons of Vorthrael, creatures that carried thick, corrupted Soulforce, his divine Soulforce surged in a way that shattered all known laws of cultivation, even from the perspective of a god.

At just five years of age, Taranis had grown as strong as a cultivator in the True Sage Realm and had become a Platoon Leader himself.

The level of respect and fear Taranis had earned from both the Thunderbanes and the imperial army was steadily approaching that of Stormir and Voltrex.

---

"You have become so handsome, son. I can barely recognise you now," Aestra's saddened voice came from the mirror, her longing eyes fixed upon the son who had already grown fully into an adult. His pale skin and perfectly symmetrical features—said by many to have already surpassed even Aurelion in looks—were striking. His long blond hair shimmered more brilliantly than ever, and his sharp golden eyes carried a depth that made her heart ache, as though the boy she once held had been replaced by a god forged by hardship and war.

"What are you saying, Mother?" Taranis replied. His voice had grown deep and heavy with age, yet it still carried the warmth beneath it. "I'm still the same Taranis."

The mirror through which Taranis conversed with his mother was known as the Twin Insight Mirror, a legendary artifact that came in pairs and allowed the person on one side to speak with the person on the other, so long as both held the handles embedded in its frame.

However, the mirror came with a severe drawback. The connection could only be maintained for thirty minutes, after which it would revert to a normal mirror for the next thirty days before it could be used again. Taranis and Aestra had been using this mirror to speak once every month, deliberately avoiding tales of war and instead talking only about grounded, everyday matters.

"Taranis, there is someone who wants to meet you today," Aestra said, a teasing smirk curling across her face.

The moment Taranis saw her smile, he instantly understood whom she was referring to.

His golden eyes gleamed with excitement, and a smile of anticipation appeared on his serene face.

"Has she finally decided to talk to me?" Taranis asked, pulling the mirror closer as though he could reach through to the other side.

"Ohooo~ you never get this excited when talking to me," Aestra teased. "Are you really that eager to meet your beloved wife?"

A blush bloomed across Taranis' cheeks as he hurriedly composed himself.

"W-we haven't married yet, Mother," Taranis murmured, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

"B-but you said you consider me your wife!?" A sharp female voice suddenly rang out from the other side—so melodious to Taranis that it sent jolts of electricity through his entire body.

"My precious angel, here—take this and talk to him," Aestra said, turning her face aside as she spoke to someone Taranis could not see.

"B-but I'm too embarrassed, Mother Aestra," the soft voice whispered, meant only for Aestra's ears, yet Taranis heard it nonetheless.

"If you keep shying away, the time will run out, and you won't be able to see him again until next month," Aestra insisted, her voice gentle and warm.

"I… I understand."

The image on the other side slowly shifted as the mirror was turned toward another figure.

"N… Nymeria…" Taranis murmured, his heart pounding faster than it ever had during the merciless battles he had fought over the past two and a half years.