---
The desert was behind them now. Chirag, Siya, and Kael stood at the edge of the Demon Realm once again, the red skies stretching far into the distance. Veyra had changed them. They had gone in seeking truth and came back with answers that burned brighter than flame.
Siya looked at Chirag as they crossed the old demon border. "Do you feel different?" she asked.
Chirag nodded slowly. "I do. The truth didn't just open my eyes—it lit a fire in my soul. The gods… they've lied to this world for too long."
Kael, walking behind them, chuckled. "And you're planning to burn their lies to the ground, huh?"
"Not just their lies," Chirag said. "Their control."
But as they stepped back into the heart of the Demon Realm, something was wrong.
The air felt cold.
Too cold.
No wind blew. No demon guards stood at the gates. The great flames that usually roared from the towers of the Demon Castle were out.
Chirag's instincts screamed at him.
"Something happened while we were gone," Siya said, eyes wide.
They ran.
Through the empty streets, past demon homes with doors wide open and tables left in a hurry. The capital city of the demons was silent.
Then they reached the castle.
And saw the ruins.
The main gate was torn apart. Walls cracked. The throne hall's roof had collapsed. Magic still sparked in the air, the kind only left behind after a massive battle.
Chirag's voice trembled. "No…"
He burst through the broken door and saw what remained of the Demon Castle's core.
Blood. Fire. Ash.
And in the center of the room, half-buried in stone, lay a broken crown.
Raegor's crown.
Kael was the first to speak. "We were gone too long."
"No," Chirag said, rushing forward. "He can't be gone. He's too strong. He wouldn't—" He knelt beside the shattered throne, searching through the rubble.
Then he found a hand.
Clawed. Burned. Still warm.
Siya covered her mouth. Her father—the Demon King—was dead.
Chirag stood slowly, his whole body shaking.
"They attacked when they knew I was gone," he whispered. "The gods. They knew this was their chance."
Kael stared at the burned marks along the walls. "Divine magic. Pure lightning. Only a god could've done this."
"They didn't come for the throne," Siya said. "They came to break our spirit."
Chirag closed his eyes. But inside, he was far from calm. He could feel the fire roaring within him, pushing against his skin.
"I swore I would never lose anyone again," he said. "And now… Raegor is gone. And it's my fault."
"No," Siya said, stepping in front of him. "It's not. You were doing what needed to be done. This… this was war. It's what they wanted."
Chirag looked into her eyes. "Then let's give them what we want."
---
The funeral was held that same night.
Demon tribes from all across the realm came to say goodbye to their king. Raegor had been feared, yes—but also respected. Loved by his people. He had ruled not just with strength, but with wisdom.
His body, wrapped in black firecloth, was laid upon a stone altar surrounded by burning spears. Chirag lit the ceremonial flame with his own hand, sending Raegor's body into a blaze of blue fire.
The demons roared their grief into the night sky.
And Chirag stood silently, holding Siya's hand, feeling the weight of war settle fully on his shoulders.
---
Later, alone in the training courtyard, Chirag burned through the air with each swing of his blade. Every movement was sharp. Clean. Angry.
Kael watched from a distance. "You fight like a storm," he said. "But a storm can destroy everything—including itself."
"I can't afford to be calm," Chirag replied. "Not anymore."
Kael walked over and tossed him a small black stone. "Then don't. But direct your fire."
"What's this?" Chirag asked, catching it.
"A signal stone. We have old allies in the mountains. Lost demon clans. Warriors who followed Raegor but left after the old wars. They refused to follow anyone else. But now… now they might follow you."
Chirag looked at the stone. It pulsed faintly.
"You really think I'm ready to lead armies?"
Kael smirked. "You're not just a boy from the human world anymore. You're something else. You're hope. You're fear. You're the flame that will not die."
Chirag clenched the stone in his fist. "Then let's reignite the war."
---
Back in the tower where Raegor once ruled, Siya stood before her father's old map. She traced the cities that had fallen under divine control—marked with glowing symbols now.
There were six.
Six cities that had once belonged to rulers and demons. Six that now served the gods.
Siya marked them with red fire ink.
"One by one," she whispered, "we take them back."
---
The war had entered a new phase.
No longer would Chirag wait for the gods to strike first.
Now, he would be the storm.
Now, the world would remember the name that had been hidden in prophecy.
Chirag—the Flame-Born.
The one who rose from nothing to become the future.
The one who would burn the heavens if they stood in his way.
---