Mount Targon stood majestically at the far western edge of the Shuriman continent, an uninhabited region far removed from civilization.
It was the zenith of the world of Runeterra, perpetually basking in the blazing sunlight, surveying the myriad mountain ranges below.
This mountain birthed countless legends and stories, attracting a steady stream of dreamers, adventurers, and madmen.
Some sought glory and the primal yearning to conquer the summit, others yearned for wisdom and enlightenment, and a few aspired to witness the fabled aspect of the Celestial Pantheon.
Even though most perished midway through the climb, the allure of the peak remained irresistible.
Among those who returned, some bore a perpetual look of confusion and emptiness, abandoning all worldly desires.
Others emerged utterly transformed, chosen by celestial entities to act as their earthly emissaries, granted unfathomable star-forged power to fulfill missions beyond mortal comprehension.
At the peak of Mount Targon, an enormous archway, crafted from unknown materials, shimmered with a kaleidoscope of brilliant hues. A fiery orange pillar of light shot straight up from the gateway, connecting it to the cosmos above.
Atop the divine summit, a man stood, his muscular upper body bare, a helm ablaze with starlight atop his head. He wore a blue cloak adorned with constellations, wielding a celestial spear and shield. He gazed at the heavens.
He was Pantheon, the Aspect of War—a god among the celestial Pantheon and a figure enshrined in mortal legend as the Constellation of War.
"Arbiter," the man's voice was deep and resonant, imbued with an oppressive force akin to the collapse of heaven and earth.
At his command, the once-static stars shifted abruptly.
Moments later, the surroundings of the archway were bathed in violet-blue light, akin to radiant twilight. A towering celestial entity emerged, standing dozens of meters tall, its body entirely composed of crystalline starlight.
This being was no mere star but an arbiter created by the Celestial Pantheon—a guardian dispatched to Mount Targon's peak to present mortals with their final trial.
Its visage, barely discernible with a single eye and mouth, shifted downward. Noticing the man standing below, the Arbiter immediately knelt on one knee, placing its free hand over its chest and lowering its head.
"When will the Aspect of Twilight send news again?"
Pantheon's voice, brimming with unhidden arrogance, burned hotter than the sun. He pointed his inherited spear, the weapon of the first Aspect of War, at the guardian.
The Arbiter remained silent, and Pantheon let out a cold snort. He spun his spear, slamming its spiked end heavily onto the celestial altar beneath him.
Empowered by starfire, the impact scorched a deep, hollow imprint into the ground.
"Why hasn't it simply taken over that insolent mortal's body?"
Pantheon's mood was foul.
The last message from Zoe, the Aspect of Twilight, was grim: the celestial soothsayers had foreseen the destruction of the War Constellation, with its roots lying in Runeterra.
For Pantheon, this implied his own demise at the hands of this insignificant planet.
As the strongest among the celestial Aspects, Pantheon's power was indisputable.
Though he was proud and aloof, often clashing with the other Aspects, no one dared provoke him.
To suggest that mere mortals from a tiny planet could destroy a celestial constellation? To Pantheon, it was a preposterous notion.
Fueled by rage, he had ordered Zoe to seek out the soothsayers again, demanding they re-divine his future to determine whether his mortal host was truly destined for destruction.
Yet, Zoe, notorious for her whimsical disregard for duties, had likely abandoned her mission to indulge in her whims elsewhere.
While celestial beings were eternal and unyielding, the looming end of the War Constellation left Pantheon seething. His patience with the celestial soothsayers had worn thin, and he was prepared to confront them himself.
The celestial Pantheon was emotionless by human standards, immune to mortal ethics, yet infighting among them was not uncommon.
The militant faction, led by Pantheon and Myisha, often clashed with the conservative faction, championed by the Aspects of the Protector and the Traveler. Neutral entities, like the Aspects of Justice, the Sun, and the Moon, seldom involved themselves in mortal affairs.
Pantheon and Myisha had guided humanity since its earliest days, their influence embedded in the foundation of mortal conflicts and faiths.
The militant Aspects' intervention in the Darkin Wars was their boldest act, manipulating mortals into crafting a star-forged crown laced with celestial curses. This artifact siphoned the knowledge and power of Aurelion Sol, the Star Forger, imprisoning him within sight of Runeterra, yet far enough to prevent his intervention.
Pantheon fixed his burning gaze upon the Arbiter before him and, after a moment's thought, asked another question:
"The Traveler Aspect has chosen a mortal host, and so has the Protector. Do you know who they are?"
The Arbiter bowed its head further, emitting a cascade of incomprehensible starborn murmurs, decipherable only by celestial beings.
"The Protector Aspect's chosen mortal resides in Demacia. His fate has long been set."
Pantheon laughed coldly, his tone void of warmth. "A celestial, yet bound by mortal standards—how fitting for my kin."
His words carried scorn, a clear mockery of the Protector Aspect, whose philosophies had always opposed his.
To Pantheon, mortals were but insignificant insects, devoid of wisdom and wholly reliant on the will of the divine.
Mortals needed strong, unyielding rule—a truth Pantheon held above all else.
It was this belief that led him to seal the consciousness of the mortal climber whose body he now possessed, deeming him too weak to bear celestial power or fulfill his duties. Pantheon had seized control, leaving the original soul to slumber indefinitely.
Under Pantheon's command, the Arbiter's form gradually dissolved into transparency. The celestial orbits realigned, restoring their eternal constancy.
Star-forged energy surged from within Pantheon, lifting him into the sky. He ascended beyond Runeterra until the entire planet lay beneath his gaze.
He first looked toward Valoran, noticing the mechanical satellites orbiting the planet. His eyes then shifted northward to the Freljord, where a colossal mechanical construct was under assembly.
It appeared to be yet another creation by the mortal favored by the Aspect of Twilight.
Pantheon scoffed, showing no interest in these matters.
Had it not been for the Twilight Star Spirit saying that everything hinged on Zoe, he wouldn't have bothered paying attention to that otherworldly being.
Even though he might play a significant role in the final Void War.
As Pantheon's gaze shifted, the land shrank to the size of a ruler; no distance, no matter how vast, seemed to matter to him.
Now, after thousands of years, most of the Darkin had been discovered by humans, and many had even broken the seal placed on them by the Twilight Star Spirit with the help of Chalicar.
The main reason Pantheon had taken control of this human body was to defeat the Darkin once again, those who had used blood magic to reshape their bodies and wreak havoc on the mortal realm.
In the preceding decades, he had already used this body to send many Darkin back into their weapons and return them to their sealed places.
However, a faint trace of bloodstained energy entered Pantheon's perception, causing the light beneath his helmet to intensify. His gaze shifted suddenly toward the foot of Mount Targon.
There, a being stood—entirely crimson, wielding a massive greatsword, with devilish black horns on his head and decaying crimson wings sprouting from his back.
He was herding a group of shepherds toward the Great God Peak, seemingly intending to climb the towering mountain.
A mere Darkin dares to defile the sacred peak?!
Pantheon's chest burned with furious fire.
He channeled star magic into his Star Piercer, gripping it with his left hand in a throwing stance, then hurled it toward the Darkin who had arrived at the foot of Mount Targon.
Like a meteor plummeting from the heavens, the Star Piercer pierced the atmosphere and space, its entire body enveloped in starfire, reaching the Darkin in the blink of an eye.
The Darkin widened his eyes and raised his massive sword to block the incoming attack. The collision between the sword and the Star Piercer caused an explosion of energy, scorching the surroundings with searing light, obliterating everything in its path.
The earth trembled and cracked, the mountain collapsed, creating an apocalyptic scene.
Even in the stars above, Pantheon squinted his eyes, still sensing the Darkin's presence, proving that the attack hadn't killed him.
He let out a disdainful snort, raising his shielded right arm in front of him. Channeling star magic, his body rapidly descended, unaffected by the burning flames of the atmosphere. His speed was almost equal to that of the Star Piercer.
This was Pantheon's signature technique on Runeterra—Great Wasteland Starfall!
"Pantheon!" the Darkin roared as he surged from the explosion's aftermath, his voice filled with agony and thunderous fury, "Traitor, demon!"
With a deafening crash, the Darkin's wings, once ragged and damaged, suddenly spread wide, and in an instant, both his wings and his body grew several meters in size.
Following this, the Darkin raised both hands, the core of his sword pulsating as if it were alive, gathering deadly sword energy before thrusting it forward with immense force.
The Godshield and the Godslayer's blade clashed once more, releasing a burst of world-shattering energy.
The ground once again cracked and sank several meters, forcing Pantheon and the Darkin to separate, the distance between them now kilometers apart.
"Aatrox, once a proud celestial, yet reduced to such a filthy, ugly fate. How tragic," Pantheon's voice, full of divine power, carried an influence on the mind. But for the Darkin, it meant nothing.
"Hehehehe..." Atrox stood up from his half-crouch, withdrawing the greatsword from the ground, laughing loudly.
"Pantheon, the great Pantheon! Watch carefully as I become a weapon, watch carefully… your destruction!"
(End of Chapter)
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