Chapter 24: The Voids
Far beyond the lands recorded on any civilized map—beyond the iron mines of Ferrum, beyond the frozen rivers of Nordgaard, beyond even the last wandering tribes of the tundra—there existed a place no human kingdom dared to claim.
A place where life itself surrendered. Not a single tree, beast, insect, moss, animal, or even surface monster could survive. The place lacked all living things.
Mountains like spears pierced the sky, their peaks forever swallowed by icy storms. The wind blew sharp enough to peel skin from bone. Snow fell the entire year, not stopping for a single second.
The cold reached one hundred and fifty degrees below zero.
Nothing could survive in this place, except one thing.
On an endless white plain stood a single structure.
A lonely, tall, black, and vertical tower rising into the sky.
The storm stopped near its area of influence, and snow could not even be seen. The wind stopped blowing.
It was as though the storm itself was prevented—afraid to touch the structure.
Inside the tower, in the highest chamber, beside a window carved from eternal ice, an old woman sat quietly. Her hair was white as frost, her skin thin and lined with countless wrinkles, her back slightly bent with age. She wore a plain grey robe. Even though her appearance reflected her old age, she looked dignified and majestic.
If Solon represented refined scholarship, and Zemlya embodied imperial ambition, this woman was inevitability.
To the few who still remembered her existence, she had many names.
The Grey.
The Grey Witch.
The Old Guardian.
The Last Watcher.
It had been one hundred and fifty years since anyone in the nearest city—over fifteen hundred miles south—had last seen her face. To most of the world, she had already faded into legend. A myth told in taverns.
For thousands of years, the continent had survived because she existed.
Behind her stood two figures.
A young man and a young woman, both wrapped in heavy rune-stitched cloaks to survive the cold and harsh environment.
Both were powerful mages in their own right—strong enough to freeze lakes and split icy mountains in a matter of seconds.
The old woman gazed out the window.
Far north.
Farther than any map dared draw—roughly five hundred miles beyond even this tower.
Where the sky itself looked wrong.
The color of the sky was purple, bruised and cracked.
As if something had torn reality and stitched it back together poorly. Black lightning flickered there.
And sometimes—
The earth split open.
From those cracks came things that did not belong to this world.
Voids.
Creatures born from the Void Gate.
They were creatures with twisted bodies of horn and bone, glowing green eyes, and flesh dripping foul miasma that poisoned the environment itself and all living things.
Unlike monsters, Voids possessed will, intelligence, and malice. However, they shared one instinct—to infect and spread corruption throughout the world. It was in their nature.
It was said that even the weakest Void was ten times stronger than an ordinary monster.
Every few years, hundreds clawed their way out from the cracked Void Gate.
Sometimes thousands.
The old woman's fingers rested lightly on the windowsill.
"…They are restless today."
"At this rate… even I may not be able to fully prevent them from invading this world."
Her two disciples stiffened.
"Teacher…" the girl asked, "Are the seals weakening again?"
The Grey Witch raised one frail hand.
Water gathered in the air. Darkness seeped into it like ink. Then space folded inward.
A sphere formed, showing a vision.
The far north.
The ice plains ruptured.
A colossal crack stretched across the land.
From it poured shadows.
Endless.
Crawling.
The Voids.
The young man swallowed hard.
"That many…?"
"…More than the last five hundred years combined."
Meaning more than a million.
The situation was dire.
To subjugate a single lesser Void, one hundred professional soldiers were required. With these numbers, even if the entire continent's forces combined, they would not emerge unscathed. Even Teacher could only subjugate a few thousand at full power.
"Teacher… what does the prophecy say?" the girl asked.
The Grey's eyes grew distant, glowing like pearls.
"Stars are shifting."
"The south burns with war."
"Steel replaces magic."
"And…"
Curiosity appeared in her ancient eyes.
"…A new light has appeared."
"I see every element gathering around one soul."
"Fire."
"Water."
"Wind."
"Earth."
"Light."
"Darkness."
"Space."
"Lightning."
Both disciples froze.
"That's impossible," the girl said.
"Only the First Emperor possessed that kind of affinity. How could that be possible? Unless he is a hero like the First Emperor… Does he…?" the boy said.
"…Yes."
"He is this era's hero," the Grey said.
Silence lingered as shock overtook both disciples.
Far to the north—
A roar echoed.
The Voids were trying to invade again.
The Grey stood.
Darkness pooled at her feet.
Water condensed along the walls.
Space distorted around her silhouette.
Triple elemental.
Darkness.
Water.
Space.
The strongest mage alive.
Alive since the death of the First Emperor.
The one he personally tasked to guard the north.
To guard the Void Gate.
For thousands of years, she had never once abandoned that duty.
Because if she left—
The continent would fall in days.
The entire world would fall within months.
"…Prepare."
Her disciples bowed immediately.
"Yes, Teacher."
She looked once more toward the cracked sky.
"…If the Void Gate fully opens…"
"…this era will drown in blood again."
"…Perhaps it is time the world remembered why I still live."
Far away, thousands of miles south—
A young prince marched with cannons and mages, unknowingly approaching destiny.
(Continue…)