Alaric emerged from the depths of the Whispering Mountains, no longer appearing as a possessed knight, but rather as a majestic entity of "Emptiness." The black crown upon his brow absorbed the golden radiance coming from the horizon, turning the sky above them into a sea of deep purple, where the particles of golden ash faded and transformed into a fine grey dust that fell in solemn silence. His body exuded a thick, grey smoke, his eyes became like two domes of deep space, and his skin had transformed into armor of gleaming black metal that reflected no light.
Kalgar and Elianor walked behind him. Kalgar gripped his broken sword tightly, while Elianor fingered her torn blue shawl, feeling a cold sting piercing her skin whenever she approached Alaric. Silence enveloped the place—a silence blending awe and hope.
They reached the first village destroyed by the war, "Salt Village," where its inhabitants had been turned into rigid golden statues, their faces frozen in expressions of eternal bewilderment. Alaric stopped before the statue of a small child holding a wooden doll and placed his hand on its golden shoulder. There was no explosion; instead, the gold began to fade, transforming into a fine grey dust that rose toward the sky. The child did not return to life, but he was "freed" from the light's bondage.
Alaric spoke, his voice echoing like thunderous resonance inside the skulls of everyone in the village:
"We have come to grant you the rest that the false light stole from you. I have no life to give, but I offer you nothingness... a nothingness that absorbs pain and frees the soul."
The remnants of survivors from neighboring villages, who had hidden in the cellars of their burned homes, moved toward Alaric. They were hungry, frightened, and broken, but they saw in this dark entity a new hope. They did not see a monster; they saw a "savior" with the power to erase pain.
An old man stepped forward, his skin already beginning to harden and turn to granite, and spoke in a faltering voice:
"O King of Ash... they have taken everything from us, even our right to oblivion. The light hunts us, demanding a 'remorse' we do not possess. If you are the 'Emptiness,' then make us part of you. Make us the 'Army of the Forgotten,' who do not fear the light."
Alaric looked into the old man's eyes and saw within them the same pain he had once carried. He turned to Kalgar and spoke in a voice carrying the awe of storms:
"Kalgar... gather these men. Teach them how to fight with the 'weight of remorse,' how to use shadows as extra limbs, how to become 'Legions of Vapor' that march toward the capital. We will not fight with swords alone; we will fight with the 'reason' that the light left behind."
Kalgar began training the men. The grey ash fell upon them, turning their skin into solid armor and their eyes into domes of deep space. They no longer feared the light; instead, they "absorbed it" and transformed it into dark energy.
Elianor watched the scene from behind a shattered rock, and for the first time since his transformation, she saw fear in Alaric's eyes. She spoke in a firm voice that cut through the edge of despair:
"Alaric... you are not what you have done; you are what you are doing now. This army... is not an army of death, but an army of life intertwined with nothingness. You are giving them hope, even if it is a dark hope."
The "Legions of Vapor" set off on a mad march toward the capital, leaving behind them an entire civilization burning in the name of "purification," knowing that their coming enemy possessed no heart that could be stabbed, but rather a "holiness" that must be shattered. On the horizon, "Ocasia" did not appear as a city, but as a colossal golden flame devouring the sky.
Alaric spoke, drawing his sword "Spirit's Dusk," whose blade had transformed into a strange substance resembling the night of the poles:
"They are reaping them... they make no distinction between executioner and victim. To them, we are all taint that must be erased. Elianor... the Stolen Crown is not merely a symbol of sovereignty; it is the only weapon the 'Keepers of the Covenant' have feared since the dawn of time. If their system requires turning hearts into salt, then let 'Emptiness' be my answer to you."
They finally reached the outskirts of the capital, where the gates of celestial hell were now opening, and the race for the "Stolen Crown" became a matter of life and death for the entire human race. The King of Ash would now receive his guests, his new crown blazing with a darkness deeper than any shadow known to humanity, announcing the beginning of the true clash between "harsh celestial justice" and "rebellious human sin."