Chapter 61: Council of the Last Dawn
The call went out not by raven or rider, but by light—a beacon of divine aura released from the peak of Luther Stronghold, visible across the world. It was not a summons of politics or pride.
It was the will of war.
The world answered.
One by one, they came.
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Valeria Durnstahl, the Iron Empress, descended from her warship upon a chariot of steel and steam, flanked by her Four Dukes—each a master of aura forged in the foundries of conquest.
Erin Magus, thought lost to madness and shadow, emerged from a rift of violet flame—older, wearier, yet unmistakably powerful. Her son, Ryan Magus, stood at her side, his eyes hardened by what he had seen in her absence.
From the skies, wrapped in thunder and golden arcs, came Karen, the Emissary of Thunder. Her divine guardian—an eagle with stormcloud wings and eyes of lightning—shrieked over the assembled before perching silently above the hall.
Behind her came others:
The Emissary of Stone, clad in mountain-iron and silence.
The Emissary of Wind, whose cloak rippled though no breeze blew.
The Emissary of the Sea, walking on mist.
Not all had names Jean knew. But she felt their divine spark. They were the chosen—just like her.
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The Shadow Guild appeared last.
No fanfare. No proclamation.
Vaelros the Hollow stepped from the darkness with a half-smile and the scent of death on his cloak. He said nothing as he joined the circle.
But Jean felt the dagger beneath his breath.
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And then—finally—the Luther Clan.
Not by force or rank, but family.
Charles Luther, unbending as mountain stone, stood with his arms crossed. His aura coiled behind him like a dragon not yet loosed.
Silvia Luther, red-eyed and unspeaking, bowed silently beside her grandfather. Her sword never left her back, though she had long sworn to never raise it against kin.
Adam Luther, brooding, scarred, and humbled by defeat, said nothing. He had not come for glory. But Jean knew—he would fight.
Even Raven, dressed in black, a single crimson ribbon in her hair, joined them. Still an outcast. But no longer alone.
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The chamber at the heart of Luther Stronghold was lit by divine crystal and warded by a thousand layers of old aura. It held no throne—only a round table of stone.
Jean stood at its head.
> "This is no longer about who rules which borders," she began.
> "The dragons do not see kings. They see prey."
> "Antares has risen. He brings not conquest but annihilation. And with him… more than dragons. There are things beneath him. Older. Twisted."
Her eyes moved from face to face.
> "We don't need alliances. We need unity."
> "We forge a single front. We combine our forces—Aura, Magic, Mercenary, Divine. There will be no second chance. If we falter…"
She placed her hand on the stone table.
> "There will be no world left to inherit."
A long silence followed.
Then the Iron Empress stepped forward and placed her gauntleted hand beside Jean's.
> "For flame and steel."
Karen followed, thunder crackling.
> "For the sky and storm."
Erin Magus next.
> "For the gods who still believe."
Then one by one—Silvia, Ryan, Raven, Adam, Vaelros…
Until all hands met at the center.
And so the Council of the Last Dawn was formed.
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