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A Kingdom Built on Shadows
The Sanctuary's outer lands had changed.
What was once a shattered ruin now bustled with quiet activity—mages, hunters, and exiled warriors arriving under Serian's banner. They came not for loyalty, but for belief.
Belief in him.
He stood before them in a silver cloak, a crown of black iron in his hand.
> "I don't need worship," he told them. "I need warriors."
A rogue elf stepped forward. "What are we fighting for?"
Serian's answer was soft but clear.
> "For a world not written by gods."
And just like that… the Forgotten Kingdom was born.
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The Gathering of the Marked
Across the land, strange figures were called by Serian's mark—a glowing glyph that appeared only to the lost and cursed.
A necromancer exiled for loving a monster.
A beastkin girl whose tribe was wiped out for disobeying the Temple.
An ancient warrior sealed in stone for killing an angel.
They followed the call.
Not because they trusted Serian.
But because they too had been forgotten.
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Lira's Mission
Lira walked the bloodstained roads of the old empire, a scroll in hand, cloaked in illusions.
At Serian's request, she met with thieves, witches, assassins, even old gods in hiding.
Each message was the same:
> "The throne of fate is empty. If you want a seat… come take it."
By the time she returned, ten banners flew above the sanctuary walls—none royal, none holy.
But each one carried the rage of the discarded.
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Meanwhile: The Hero's Fracture
The Hero clone led a grand march into the Southern wilds.
But his team had begun to doubt.
His eyes were colder.
His justice... bloodier.
When he slaughtered a surrendering warlock, one of his knights—a woman named Elane—grabbed his arm.
> "This isn't what the gods taught us!"
He stared at her with lifeless eyes.
> "Then maybe the gods were wrong."
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And in the North: Demonfire Rises
The Demon Lord clone—now crowned the Crimson Matron—built temples from dragon bones and war chants.
The children she raised had grown—fanatical, powerful, loyal.
When a kingdom tried to invade her territory, she sent only five teenagers.
They returned with the king's head.
And as she stared at it, she whispered:
> "They will learn to kneel… or burn."
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A Message Across Dimensions
In the depths of his chamber, Serian sat before a glowing mirror.
The Third Soul's reflection flickered.
> "You're getting bold," she said.
> "I'm just getting started."
She smiled. "Then hurry, Serian. They're all catching up."
The mirror dimmed.
And Serian turned to the map, eyes narrowing on two marks—one glowing blue, one crimson.
> "Let them come."
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