The entirety of the Four Realms trembled when the Shadow emerged from its hiding place. Rifts opened in the skies, gaping holes in reality that led to a hidden network of spaces that wove throughout all of creation, and darkness seeped out.

  War came with it.

  Alexander was first to act. He had been resting in his cave, watching the spirit river flow by. The moment the stench of the Shadow reached him, long before he saw any of its forces, golden flames began to spill from between his teeth. His head snaked out of the cave and he rose to his full, impressive height. His aura shot to its peak as he unleashed a roar to shake the very heavens themselves, flying up, up, into the skies to behold the entirety of creation as the mighty god he was. Rifts shattered the skies of all the Realms, centered around the central symbols. The Holy Mountain, the Life-Giving Tree, and the Karmic Valley. With a snarl he threw himself forward to greet the incoming hordes of dark spirits, pouring out of the false Void that separated the Realms from the primordial chaos. His scales were impenetrable. His claws weapons of destruction. And the first wave shattered beneath his might.

  Elvira heard Alexander’s roar, sitting on her throne listening to the chattering of gods and spirits alike as she was. The walls of her palace trembled from the force and she rose to her feet, knuckles cracking with thunderous booms as she readied herself for battle, white robes billowing in an unseen wind, golden hair whipping about her head and wings flaring out dramatically.

  “To battle!” she bellowed, aura unleashed, billowing upward in a brilliant white beam of light. The gods scattered, Sol drawing his sword beside her, Gilles readying whips of pure shadow. Beneath her palace her forces stirred – forces hidden from the sight of the Shadow, and ready to march.

  Keilan sighed when he heard the roar of his brother, setting down his pen. Unlike his siblings, he never got a break from work. Still, as he rose from behind his desk, wings curling about him and aura restrained, something stirred. Thuds echoed from beside the doors of his office as he swept out, snapping his fingers. Karmic threads raced to do his bidding, mental messages flying out as his people readied themselves. The karmic kings fortified the karmic palace, portals opening all above and about it, and his new security force stirred from their spots.

  Reika was perhaps the one most ready, of all her siblings. The chaotic nature of the physical realm meant she was used to surprises, so even as she looked up at where she knew Mother’s palace to be, knowing there was only a little time left before She was ready to create the Lunar Star, her people were moving to action. From her place atop the Life-Giving Tree, she saw myriad portals open around the Heavenly Palace, the Karmic Palace, and her own Tree. More still floated in space above, hiding a more sinister goal…

  With nothing more than a gentle hum to indicate her orders, trees began to move, wood groaning and creaking. This would not be a protracted war. It would be short. It would be swift. And it would be brutal. And she was ready for it.

  Of all the mortals and immortals of the physical realm, only Dei noticed the coming of war. He didn’t hear Alexander’s roar, for it was meant for the gods. But he did feel it in his bones. He walked slowly through the halls of his palace, a young avian girl who had taken much of the responsibility of ruling off his shoulders trailing behind him, chattering. Her white wings fluttered audibly as she talked, a habit of hers that Dei had been forced to grow used to.

  His hair was grey. Wrinkles lined his face, and his bones creaked when he moved. His horns had been worn down from age; he had yet to take his immortality ascension trial, and was reaching the end of his admittedly ridiculously long lifespan. A little over ten thousand years – that seemed to be the limit to a Fae’s lifespan at the peak of cultivation, a half-step away from immortality. Much to the chagrin of his followers, he had no heir, either. He stroked his beard, a long, flowing grey thing, and paused to look out one of the windows of the palace. Manu Ti lay before him. It had grown much; there were now three flying islands, beside this first one. Three immortals called this place home; Fang Xu, Celene, and a Karae who had recently ascended. It was peaceful. It was calm. Millions of cultivators lived here, and many more mortals.

  “My lord?” the young girl asked, his pause lasting too long.

  “Rally our forces.” He said simply, tugging at his beard. “War has come.”

  To her credit the girl did not question him. Such was the finality of his tone, the surety of his posture, that she leapt to do his bidding, shouting orders as she hurtled down the hallway, leaving Dei alone. He smiled, grimly, fiercely.

  “Once more into the fray,” he muttered. “Let this be the last good fight I’ll ever know.”

  Dark angels poured from the skies, spirits following after them as they screamed bloody murder and war. Angels and other powerful spiritual beings rose to meet them, the initial clash sending shudders through the foundations of the Realms…and the Light struggled to keep their enemies at bay. The Shadow’s forces struck with a ferocity that shook the angels and holy beasts alike to the core; they fought savagely, heedless of their own wounds as they sought to strike down any who stood in their path.

  Alexander crashed into a wave of them, each thrash of his tail and toss of his head sending dozens flying. He alone cordoned off an entire section of the sky, none able to pass him by, but he was still only one dragon. Dark beings flooded toward the physical realm, magic spilling from their fingertips as they sought total destruction.

  Gods rose from their resting places, all the elements alight with power as they struck out against the aggressors, but none were greater than the might of Heaven. Elvira’s light exploded out from her palace, radiating out in a wave that brought with it three thousand soldiers in gleaming silver armor. Thousands rode upon winged horses that took to the skies, crashing into the lines of dark angels with a roar and led by the angel Stilicho. Magic flew from the tips of their gleaming spears, talismans of pure jade shining, capturing and sealing away dozens of evil spirits in moments. They were not stronger than the average angel, but they were disciplined and well-trained, fighting as one cohesive unit.

  That alone gave them advantage against the raging tides of dark spirits.

  Elvira stood behind them, wings flared as the Army of Heaven tore into the skies, led by her angels and holy beasts, crashing through lines of their enemies.

  “Go!” She boomed. “Protect the Tree!” For in a quick glance she had properly deduced the goal of the dark angels – many attacked the Holy Mountain and the Karmic Valley, but more still flooded toward the Life-Giving Tree. If their goal was the destruction of the Four Realms, the annihilation of the Tree was a good place to start; it kept the Heaven and Karmic Realms from touching and clashing, after all.

  “For the Empress!” her army bellowed, the winged cavalry hurtling through the skies and through a portal opened by Gilles, who teleported them to the physical realm. The rest stayed upon the mountain, battling those dark spirits who remained and sealing away those they could. Elvira’s angels and holy beasts stood with them, alongside a few elemental gods, keeping the army from overextending, and collapsing against the far more numerous enemies. Elvira, herself, flew into the skies with Gilles and Sol to join her brother in holding the area – and to tempt out the Shadow.

  “Is that all you have to muster? I tire of your games!” she bellowed as she struck a dark angel, the force of her blow shattering the very air and sending the being hurtling back into the rift from whence it came. Sol and Gilles fell in beside her, beams of light and whips of shadow cracking through the lines of dark spirits and angels, many of whom stuttered at the appearance of more gods. Alexander bellowed, golden flames sweeping through their ranks.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Below, an explosion rocked the karmic realm. Smoke billowed from the Karmic Palace as dark angels forced their way inside, disrupting the flow of souls from the spirit river. Panic surged through Elvira at the sight, but that panic was quickly subdued as Keilan emerged from the hole, holding a dark angel by the throat as it struggled in his grip. A quick glare had it silenced, karmic strings wrapping around it and sealing it away, vanishing as it was stored beneath the Karmic Palace. He was flanked by two beings; pale, muscular humanoids with glowing pale blue eyes, a third glowing white eye in their forehead, six arms, and long, white hair. Swords floated behind them, and wherever they looked their weapons followed.

  Elvira relaxed, and turned her gaze back to the army of the Shadow as Keilan floated up out of his Realm to join his siblings above.

  “We must protect the Tree,” Sol said gravely. “As you surmised, that is where the Shadow seems to be aiming.”

  “Go, then, and take Gilles with you. Guide the army.” Elvira said, cracking her knuckles as she waited for the Shadow’s promised fight. “I will stay here. We must be ready for the Shadow.”

  Gilles and Sol nodded to each other and shot off, streaking down to the physical realm, where the worst of the battle was taking place. Reika stood atop her Tree, dozens of gods circling the trunk firing bolts of energetic wrath at the attackers, watching the battle dispassionately. Beasts twisted beyond recognition poured out of the portals onto Pangaea, ignoring the smaller planets, causing havoc wherever they went. Forests burned, plains were overturned, cultivation resources consumed en mass…yet the trees fought back. Giants of wood and sap lumbered through the forest, crushing beasts underfoot and protecting the natural world, healing the land as they went. The Army of Heaven protected the skies, spearing and sealing away powerful spirits and slaying beasts, tossing the sealed beings to allied spirits, who took them to the Tree or the Mountain to be stored.

  Keilan floated up to stand beside Elvira, both watching Alexander as the great dragon tore through the enemy ranks. Reika was soon to join, satisfied that her realm was under the proper protection.

  “This is where the fun begins, brother, sister,” Elvira said with a grin, itching to show off the skills she’d honed in the past few millennia.

  “Fun, not so much. The aftermath is going to be a pain to deal with,” Keilan said with a sigh, cracking his neck.

  “Aftermath?” the Shadow answered, voice raspy yet subdued. Elvira tensed as a portal appeared before them, leaking a dark miasma. Eight glowing red eyes shone from the hole, an evil grin of gleaming white teeth visible through the darkness. But its presence was not the only one. The power of three gods radiated from the portal as well, dark and twisted and evil. Elvira grit her teeth. How dare this being twist Father’s creations so? Who did it think it was?! “You assume there will be anything to clean up afterwards, dear brother. Because this is not all I can muster. Is it yours?”

  Elvira readied her fists as Alexander came tearing back through the enemy ranks to fly beside his siblings, the Shadow slowly pulling itself free from its prison. This was where the real fight began.

  The forces of Manu Ti fought valiantly, a bastion of safety amidst the chaos. Dei stood at the forefront, flying above the chains that kept his city anchored while shouting orders. He was incredibly thankful for the technique that made flight possible – the younger generations had figured it out, and now even sub-immortal cultivators could fly through the skies. Fang Xu and Celene floated beside him, the former firing arrows at intensely powerful spiritual beings flying through the air, while the latter coated their soldiers’ armors in layers of protective ice. Spirit beasts flooded toward the city, fouler than anything he had ever seen, seeking to tear down the walls and destroy all they had built.

  “What is happening, Fang Xu?!” Dei demanded, eyes locked on a particular section of wall that seemed likely to fall, near the northern chain. Fang Xu’s formations held strong for now, but it was only a matter of time. There were too many of them, and though the average cultivator was more powerful, quantity did count for something.

  “Gods protect the Tree, though the number of dark beings attacking them is worrying.” The man responded, his golden aura shining brilliantly. “Our children, the Xu clan, has the south protected. The east is being retaken by the trees, and the angel Fu Hao stands guard over the western wall alongside reinforcements from the Karmic Realm. Never seen anything like them –“ Dei turned away from his friend’s report as the northern wall was breached, instantly teleporting to where a dozen flame-fisted monkeys had clambered atop – which was the very edge of his teleportation range – tearing into the soldiers guarding it.

  “Stand firm, men!” he bellowed, striking them down with vicious blows from his spear. “You are the soldiers of Manu Ti, of the celestial palace! We are the righteous, and we will prevail!” the words felt empty compared to what he knew existed in the heavens above, but nonetheless they rallied his men.

  A cheer went up, yet evil shivered its way down Dei’s spine.

  “Celestial palace?” a new voice said from above. He turned his gaze skyward, and beheld doom. They had the aura of immortals, but he could only see them as devils; four men and women flying in the skies above, savage in countenance and bloody in thought. “What an arrogant name. Don’t you know how high the heavens are, when you are just mortals, old man?”

  “I’ll show you ‘heaven,’” Dei growled out, readying his spear. Beside him his men hesitated. He did not. Before the devil cultivators had a chance to speak, before they had a chance to act, he had launched himself skyward. His soul coated his spear as he thrust, the strike parried by a saw-toothed sword as the immortals fell upon him. One sprouted four arms, each wielding a chained whip, and struck like thunder. Another blew poisoned darts at him that were deflected by a sweep of his spear. Yet another still layered illusions upon him, which were repelled with a scoff, while the final attempted to stab him with a dagger.

  “Foolish mortal, we have been brought up on war and conflict,” an immortal taunted as Dei dodged to the side, only to be struck with a palm-strike that sent him flying, blood spilling from his mouth. “On rage and hatred. Your peaceful forces are no match for us or our people.”

  “Blah, blah, blah, shut up.” Dei spat, righting himself midair and glaring. They thought they could toy with him. He’d show them. “All I hear is a bunch of whining and gloating. ‘Woe is me,’ bullcrap. If you think you can take me, shut up and come on.” He readied his spear. He braced himself, sensing below that more devil cultivators, though not immortals, now besieged the walls alongside the demonic beasts.

  The devil cultivators laughed and lunged – only for a host of silver-armored men riding winged horses to descend, crashing into them.

  “Defend the wall! Keep the mortals safe!” one of them bellowed, striking at an immortal with a sword of pure green jade. The man snarled and backstepped – right into a green net, that shrunk and shrunk and was carted away by two soldiers, the immortal kicking and screaming. The remaining three fought like the devils Dei likened them to, fleeing from the four cavalry-men that pursued.

  “Do try to not throw your life away. Courageous you may be, but you have nothing to prove, young man,” a new voice said. Dei looked up to see a pale man clad in black, shadows swirling about him as he smiled down at Dei. Above him floated a giggling green-haired girl that played with the wind like it was her own – and he knew he was meeting two gods. “Go help your people. Fang Xu could use some aid. I would hate for you to perish before you achieve immortality. The Heavenly Host will handle what is here.”

  And with that the god teleported away, though the silver-armored warriors remained. Dei sighed and let his shoulders sag a bit, the weight of his age weighing upon him. There was work to be done. People to kill. He couldn’t rest. Not when he could still feel it lurking in the back of his mind.

  Despite everything, things were going too smoothly. And he would be ready when the shit hit the fan.

  Gilles talked a big game to Dei, but he was concerned. He hadn’t teleported away from the man willingly, after all, floating high above the physical realm as he currently was.

  The Heavenly Host, the immortal warriors Elvira herself had trained up in the past nine thousand years, were struggling against the appearance of demons and devil cultivators, who utilized foul magic unfit for sane men, despite appearances. There were simply too many, and their more powerful members struck with lethal precision, aiming for those who were preoccupied with the sheer quantity among the lesser hordes. That was not what worried him, though. No, his worry belonged to the presence that was following him, and the other that had been following his brother, Sol.

  “Be on guard, Aeriel,” Gilles said, gripping his two shadowy whips and speaking to the wind goddess above him. She giggled in response, even as a portal opened and she stepped out. Lethally beautiful, sensual even, wearing tight black clothes and long black hair that frizzled out in odd places. Her eyes gleamed with a fell light, instability radiating from her like lightning as she walked forward, hips swaying with uncanny confidence. Her grin promised doom, her gaze destruction.

  “Oho, little god of shadows,” she crooned sweetly, the very air cracking with each word. He swallowed his nerves, readying his whip. “How sweet of you to wait for me. But your attention is misplaced. You’re playing right into our hands, and won’t that just lead to such delicious catastrophe?”

  Gilles narrowed his eyes at the cryptic words but didn’t have a chance to consider them as the dark goddess launched herself at him in a maelstrom of hate and bloodshed. Shadows wrapped himself around him as the two danced; and Gilles found himself in a fight to the death.