Chapter 639: Ashes and a New Dawn
The battlefield didn’t quieten instantly.
Evan, after the abyssal carcass vanished into nothing but ashes, its death left a fatal wound on the world. A deep gash it would never forget. The crater dug into the core of the Earth, leading to the abyss... a place that couldn’t be left alone.
Black mist clung to the broken walls, with curling smoke puffed from the crater, and deep inside, a strange noise and hollow hum lingered, bathed in darkness.
The army remained for hours, pulling corpses, clearing stones.
It was an arduous task. The orcs were the first to move. Grim-faced warlords picked through rubble to drag the wounded back to safety. Surprisingly, the elves acted like singing healers, helping the other races alongside their old enemies.
Their voices trembled with exhaustion, but remained steady enough to soothe frightened and fragile hearts. Knights of Grigor lifted shattered siege engines aside, their armour scorched and dented, but their hands still strong.
By the time the sun began to set, everyone helped drag the thousands of dead covering the plain into a neat pile ready for burning in a ceremonial worship of all races combined.
No one counted aloud, but everyone felt the weight of it.
At the head seat, Asmodeus leaned against a wooden throne, watching everything, his wounds from the abyssal taking time to heal. He watched each body, learned their names and families, silently. He gazed into the pile of corpses, too big a loss.
Yumiko remained at his side through everything, her eyes wrapped in dark circles as she fought against exhaustion. Levia, Velvet, Asmodea and Alice all took turns to watch over the little ones, worried that the current state of Asmodeus might scare them.
Beside him, Vinea rested on her knees, spear broken and discarded, her free hand brushing his hair back with a tenderness she didn’t bother to hide.
"You fought your best, darling. Please don’t mourn their losses."
Asmodeus slipped his gaze away from the corpses, his golden eyes able to see their restless souls seeking freedom or solitude. He wasn’t mortal anymore, but a god king... It was his duty to set them free and grant them eternal rest.
But he hesitated.
"If I don’t mourn them, what kind of King am I to them? They died for me, for our kingdom that has barely started to walk."
He took a deep breath as Levia returned, her armour and scales nowhere to be seen. A rare sight of her black frilled dress, she dropped to the ground between his thighs, slumped against the wooden throne, closing her eyes with a faint smile.
"Finally over... we survived," she whispered in a hoarse voice, while stroking his thighs.
The words rippled out.
They spread through the knights and orcs quietly watching from the sidelines... a huge pot of soup and broth cooking in the distance.
"I will give them a service, as their king and the god of demons." Asmodeus bit his lips before struggling to stand. He wanted their beautiful souls that watched him with such fervent eyes to rest. No, he needed to reward them for their service.
***
The battlefield was silent when Asmodeus finally rose.
He advanced with the measured gait of a king.
Despite the pain that lanced through his body, sharp knife-like wounds biting at his organs, Asmodeus stepped towards the massive pyre, thousands of bodies lay side-by-side like brothers, orc, elf, human, beast and demon all together as one.
Vinea and Levia looked at each other as he stepped over them and faded into the distance.
"Darling...?" "Honey?" they asked softly.
"I seek your attention."
He nodded once.
His bare feet touched the blackened earth.
All around, soldiers, orcs, elves, humans, and beastkin all straightened from their work and turned toward him. The simple act of standing became a signal; the murmuring died away until the whole plain was nothing but wind and crackling fires.
Asmodeus lifted one hand.
From his palm, a beautiful golden flame swirled into a mysterious pattern; it was the symbols in katakana for "New Dawn" in his homeland’s language. He twirled his fingers, allowing ribbons of red magic to flow around the flaming word.
"Warriors of every race," he said, his voice low but carrying to the furthest wall. "You fought for life, for family, for a future none of you were certain would come. You bled for a dream, my dream... our dream when it was only a whisper."
A soft darkness spilt out, not the crushing weight of battle but a quiet, velvety night.
Sparks of gold lit within the air.
Tiny lights, each one a soul that had fallen this day. The air grew warm as the darkness swept across the corpse piles, curling around each body like a final embrace and brought a beautiful light in the darkness.
As if facing dawn.
He paused, swallowing once before his words steadied.
"You are not forgotten."
The words written slowly transformed as each body lit aflame. There were sobs and cheers from the soldiers, but Asmodeus continued.
"What’s that?"
"Those words are elvish?"
"No... Now it’s Beastkin!"
Asmodeus multiplied the words in each language. Over the past year, he learned almost all languages of the continent, bar the most obscure...
When the last, orcish flame was complete, he snapped his fingertips.
One by one, the lights rose—slowly at first, then in gentle streams. Souls freed from battle’s chains floated upward, each flicker brushing past Asmodeus as though in farewell. His aura touched them, easing pain, quieting fear, granting rest.
"For your sacrifice, I give peace," he whispered. "And I promise you a kingdom worthy so go now to rest, my friends. Let your souls recover, and return to me one day... under the same stars, the same sky and same banner."
Asmodeus began to hum a familiar tune; it was solemn yet... carried a sense of hope.
It was a special song created by Grigorian knights, rumoured to be the song their first Queen sang upon their victory over the Demon Queen.
The title meant the same as the words spread across the funeral pyres.
— A New Dawn
"From this day forth, as the lord, ruler, king.
No, God King of this land. I grant the name dedicated to all who fought today... and those we lost. We all might have come from different places, and nobody can say we haven’t made mistakes as enemies who didn’t know each other any better.
However, this kingdom, this land, will accept all who accept her into their hearts. Whether demon, human, elf, dwarf, beast, monster... Or those from another world."
His gentle words spread through the plains like magic as he spread his arms, four beautiful wings made of pure gold, spreading from his back as the fires grew larger, with a gorgeous golden red flame.
Even the proud orc war chiefs lowered their heads. Elves sang soft, wordless notes, their voices trembling but beautiful. A few knights dropped to one knee, armour clanking against the scorched stone.
The last sparks vanished into the night sky.
"God in peace, knowing the name of your new home. Lumeria the land of a new dawn."
Silence followed his final words.
Then, as if the night itself exhaled, the first cheer rose a raw, broken cry...
It came from a lone orc drummer, striking his chest with a fist. An elf followed with a trembling note on a reed flute. Soon, more voices joined; beastkin howled, knights raised cracked blades, and the dead plain slowly bloomed with sound.
A song of struggle and survival.
Yumiko appeared, having vanished earlier, her magic lifting countless paper lanterns.
Velvet stepped forward first, holding a single lantern alight with soft pink fire. Yumiko followed, her blue flame swaying as she leaned against Vinea for strength. One by one, soldiers and healers lit their own. The sea of lanterns drifted upward, thousands of small suns rising to meet the souls Asmodeus had freed.
Each lantern lit with mana took on a different colour as the sky became bright.
"This light," Avandar of Grigor said, his deep voice carrying, "marks the first day of our shared dawn."
"To think our shared son-in-law became a god..." The elven queen held her husband’s hand from the edge of the pyre, watching Ciela’s emerald green lantern. They looked to their side with hundreds of dark elves observing the funeral in amazement, their eyes full of wonder. "Do you think he’ll accept these children?"
"...of course, my love."
From this moment, Lumeria, the kingdom, became synonymous with hope, and the desire for a new tomorrow... its king linked to all the other races by blood, marriage or kinship.
Alan’s body, covered in wounds, sat up from the medical tent. He watched the centre, always keeping his eyes on Asmodeus. "Lumeria..." He noticed his brother, the elven empress and the Beast empress all stood together.
On this night, the four races signed a pact without ink: this night signified the start of a new beginning as Year 0, Day 1 of the Lumerian Calendar, the day the scattered peoples stood together beneath one sky.
Against the mainland.
Against the gods.
Against the Abyss.
Suddenly, there was a loud pop in the sky as the young children of Asmodeus held in the arms of their mothers stepped close. A beautiful star shot across the sky, followed by a delicate rain of sparkling lights, replacing the countless lanterns, forming the shape of a dragon.
Beneath the dragon-shaped stars, Asmodeus closed his eyes and swore that after this dawn, Lumeria would rise, and neither god nor abyss would ever threaten it again.
Thus was his oath
as
God King Asmodeus of Lumeria.