The decision at dawn, like throwing ice into boiling oil, instantly provoked the most intense reaction and brought the clarity of burning one's boats. In the oppressive council hall of the Knights of Radiance headquarters, the air seemed to freeze and then suddenly explode. There was no time for hesitation, no room for retreat. In the narrow crevice of survival, a desperate, bold, yet last-hope three-pronged battle plan was swiftly finalized.

Grandmaster Richard put back on the heavy griffin gold crown. At this moment, it was no longer a symbol of glory but a shackle swearing to live or die with the capital. The last trace of confusion in his eyes was replaced by steely determination, his voice hoarse yet resolute, like a warhammer striking an anvil:

“Rolaher!”

“Here!” The heavy-armored captain stepped forward, his armor clanging like a mountain.

“Your phalanx is the final wall. I need you nailed like spikes at every intersection from the central square to the inner city! Not a single step back!”

“Yes, sir! Where the heavy armor battalion stands, the defense line holds!” Rolaher struck his chest in salute, his gaze resolute.

“Constance!”

“Grandmaster!” The female cavalry captain stepped forward, blood still fresh on her face, her eyes sharp as an eagle’s.

“Your cavalry is the lifesaving blade and the funeral scythe. Use your mobility to support the most critical defense lines, eliminate breakthrough monster hordes, and when necessary… cover the retreat.”

“Understood! The Knights charge until death!” Constance placed her right hand on her sword, solemnly accepting the order.

“Instructor Adrian, Captain Lothar!”

Adrian and Lothar from the border stepped forward simultaneously.

“You lead all able knights and adventurers to fill gaps in the defense lines and clear out stragglers in street fights. Adrian, especially those Deep Abyss mages and remnants of the Lumina Conclave—leave them to your sword.”

“Leave it to me.” Adrian’s voice was icy, suppressing towering rage and a determination for redemption. Lothar heavily struck his chest, acknowledging the order in the border army’s way.

“Isa! Guillaume!”

Scout Isa and standard-bearer Guillaume stood at attention.

“Isa, your eyes are our eyes. I need you to know the pressure on every defense line, the location of every monster chieftain! Guillaume, the banner must not fall! Let every soldier know the Knights stand with them!”

“Yes, sir!” They answered in unison.

Finally, Richard looked at Hostia and Valkyrie, taking a deep breath. “Governor Hostia, Commander Valkyrie, the capital’s streets are entrusted to you. The ferocity of the Shadow Hunters and the resilience of the Frostfeather Regiment will be key to holding this last stand!”

Hostia grinned, grounding his greatsword. “Rest assured, I haven’t killed enough yet!” Valkyrie merely gave a slight nod, her ice-blue eyes holding only the cold of a fight to the death.

Orders flowed down like molten iron. The remaining allied forces were swiftly integrated, constructing layer upon layer of life-costly defense lines amid ruins, barricades, and the not-yet-fully-collapsed city walls. This was destined to be an extremely brutal war of attrition. Their mission was to buy precious time for the other two, more critical lines of action with their flesh and blood.

Just as the brutal engagement on the defense lines began, another elite squad, like a sharp dagger, silently stabbed toward the eye of the storm—the Cathedral of Holytorch.

Pope Gabriel shed his ornate ceremonial robes for a simple white combat vestment trimmed with gold. The gem atop his staff glowed with restrained light yet radiated immense holy energy. His eyes held complexity—concern about the possible consequences of awakening Aurora, but more so, the resolve to fulfill his final duty. Lady Eleanor had also joined the team at some point, still calm like a player about to make a move, holding a small, faintly glowing magical sand table that simulated the battle across the capital in real time, choosing the optimal path for the squad.

Julien and Hugo moved like true ghosts, scouting ahead and on the flanks, clearing hidden sentries and traps. Mother Superior Seraphina led the finest combat nuns and medics, including Elena. They erected soft holy barriers, resisting sporadic energy erosion and mental attacks while providing timely healing. Scholar Sebastian was protected at the center, clutching a thick, metal-clasped ancient tome—the original documents she risked her life to save, containing the true history of the Beacon and evidence of the Lumina Conclave’s tampering.

At the core of the squad were Astra and Sylas. The siblings held hands tightly, the light patterns on their backs slightly warm, the resonance crystal transmitting their firm and synchronized heartbeats. The Starlight Blade hummed in its sheath, the Dawnlight Shield shimmered with gentle radiance. They knew they were the key, the spark to ignite hope.

The path to the cathedral was exceptionally difficult. The closer they got, the more severe the abyssal corruption became. The air reeked of sulfur and blood, twisted monsters swarmed from all sides. Worse were the die-hard fanatics of the Lumina Conclave, hiding in shadows, harassing with cold arrows and spells imbued with purifying power, shouting mad slogans, offering their final “loyalty” to Lucian.

The battle was fierce and brutal. Gabriel’s holy light burned like the sun; Eleanor’s magic was precise and deadly, neutralizing the most dangerous attacks; Julien and Hugo’s assassinations were silent yet efficient; Seraphina’s healing light sustained the squad. Astra and Sylas fought at the forefront, their memories as the Twin Star Guardians fully awakened, offense and defense unified. Where their light reached, monsters dissolved. Though not a strong combatant, Sebastian’s knowledge proved crucial, identifying weaknesses of rare monsters and preventing unnecessary losses.

Every step forward was paved with blood and sacrifice. When they finally broke through the last blockade and rushed into the bullet-riddled, smoke-filled, desecrated main hall, every member was wounded, and their numbers had nearly halved.

The cathedral interior was like hell. Stained glass was shattered, statues toppled, once-solemn pews reduced to charcoal, the floor littered with battle scars and bodies of the fallen. Most striking was the forcibly opened stairway entrance to the underground at the center, from which dense ominous light and heart-palpitating energy waves steady emanated.

“The Beacon chamber is below! Hurry!” Gabriel commanded, leading the charge down the stairs.

Just as the Beacon ignition team stormed the cathedral, in a heavily warded chamber deep within the Knights’ headquarters, another crucial preparation was underway.

The crystal coffin sealing the Oracle Aurora was carefully moved to the chamber’s center. Several senior ascetics and scholars, led by the acting bishop designated by Gabriel, arranged a complex awakening array around it. Key nuns left by Seraphina maintained the wards’ stability.

Richard’s most loyal guards stood watch outside. Two shamans from Valkyrie’s Frostfeather Regiment began chanting ancient war songs, gathering the thin ice element in the air. This helped stabilize Aurora’s potentiall out-of-control divine power upon awakening and prepared for the worst-case “Abyssal Assault”—if the Beacon was successfully lit, Aurora awakened, yet the situation remained unsalvageable, this elite force would have to embark on the near-suicidal mission straight into the heart of the abyss.

Everyone’s heart was heavy. Awakening Aurora was a great risk, and the Abyssal Assault was nearly suicidal. But they had no choice, they could only prepare for everything, awaiting fate’s starting gun.

In the cathedral’s underground chamber, when Gabriel, Astra, and the others rushed down the stairs into the vast, oppressive space, the sight was breathtaking.

The central Beacon altar of the Light Emissary was now thoroughly corrupted. The jade surface was covered in web-like dark red cracks, oozing filthy energy. Above the altar, the magic circle forcibly constructed by Lucian spun at its limit, emitting a soul-rending screech. At the center, Lucian floated mid-air, his once-holy white robes now completely stained dark red, blood and twisted shadows flowing from his seven orifices. Yet his face wore an acme, insane delight as he chanted profane incantations, madly draining the Beacon’s essence, attempting to completely distorted and sacrifice it!

“Lucian! Stop!” Gabriel roared, slamming his staff, a pure holy light spear shooting toward the array!

“Useless! Too late! The holy rebirth… requires the old world’s bones as sacrifice! Wahahahaha!” Lucian laughed maniacally. The array rippled, actually deflecting and absorbing Gabriel’s holy light!

“Attack the array nodes!” Eleanor calmly analyzed the array structure, pointing out key energy flow points.

Julien, Hugo, Seraphina, and others immediately attacked. Bullets, sword energy, and holy light rained on the array. Yet, this magic circle was exceptionally sturdy and could absorb the energy of attack to replenish itself!

Astra and Sylas didn’t hesitate, charging straight for the altar! The Starlight Blade and Dawnlight Shield shone in tandem. The siblings’ light elements merged into a gold-blue torrent, crashing into the array!

“BOOM—!”

The massive energy impact shook the entire chamber! The array’s light obviously dimmed; Lucian also groaned!

“You… ignorant… stumbling blocks!” Lucian glared venomously at Astra and Sylas, especially their pure, warm light, which made him extremely uncomfortable and… jealous? He forcefully using stronger force. Shadowy tentacles extend from the array, grasping at everyone!

A fierce battle erupted! Gabriel, Eleanor, and others fully resist the shadow tentacles, creating opportunities for the siblings. Astra and Sylas pushed their collaborative combat to the acme, sword light and shield shadows repeatedly impact the array’s core.

During the clashes, Lucian poured all his focus into loot the Beacon and resist Astra’s group, trying to deliver a critical hit.

However, he never dreamed the greatest betrayal would come from behind.

Chief Executor “Murder Crow” Felix, who had stood silently like a shadow behind him, his eyes hidden behind a mask long weary from endless killing and growing deep doubt about “Absolute Purification,” finally saw his last shred of loyalty to Lucian completely shattered under the siblings’ protecting each other time and time again, a warm and steadfast light.

The moment Lucian gathered his power again for a final strike—

“Squelch!”

A faint yet clean sound of blade piercing flesh.

Lucian’s body stiffened. Unbelieving, he looked down at the glow-tipped rapier protruding from his chest. With difficulty, he turned to the subordinate who had stood like a statue.

Felix slowly removed his mask, revealing a pale, exhausted, yet exceptionally calm face. “Lord Lucian… the light you seek… is too cold… cold enough… to despair,” he whispered. “Their light… has… warmth.”

“You… traitor…” The fanaticism in Lucian’s eyes rapidly faded, replaced by the vast empty of collapsed faith and incomprehensible loss. He opened his mouth, finally, with his last strength, uttering intermittent whispers, like a warning or a curse: “Hurry… Hela… already… knows the coordinates…”

Before he finished, the light in his eyes completely extinguished. His body fell like a puppet with cut strings. The magic circle severe fluctuations, beginning to dissipate.

A perfect opportunity!

“Now!” Gabriel shouted.

Astra and Sylas exchanged a glance. No words needed; their hearts were connected. They simultaneously charged toward the cracked, highly unstable Beacon altar.

Astra thrust the humming Starlight Blade into the altar’s core socket like inserting a key! Meanwhile, Sylas slammed the Dawnlight Shield before the altar, placing both hands inside, pouring all her light element, together with the power of the light “seed,” unreservedly into it!

“In the name of Aetherium!” Astra cried hoarsely.

“With the will of hope and protection!” Sylas whispered in prayer.

HUM—!!!

An indescribable, warm, grand, infinite vitality, and ancient majesty erupted from the Beacon’s center! No longer Lucian’s blasphemy, plunder, destruction light, but like the rising sun, the source of life, like… the first light at creation!

A dazzling pillar of light shot skyward, easily piercing the chamber’s ceiling, the collapsing cathedral, soaring into the clouds, instantly dispersing the dark purple energy vortex above the capital! The pillar bloomed at the capital’s highest point, forming an immense, slowly rotating ring of pure light! The ring showered warm light rain. Wherever the light rain touched, chaotic miasma on the ground rapidly dissolved, low-tier monsters shrieked and turned to ash, wounded soldiers felt their injuries heal and stamina recover, nightmare-plagued people found their hearts soothed!

The entire capital, at this moment, was enveloped in sacred and warm light!

A gentle, ancient whisper, as if from the universe’s dawn, echoed directly in every being’s heart, carrying a trace of relieving, but more so, distant sighs and exhortations:

“Descendants of the Watchers…”

“You have brought the ‘Spark’…”

“But true rekindling requires the gathering of eleven flames…”

“Go to the next country…”

“Until you traverse all trials, the ashes of the sky… are not enough to build new foundations…”

The voice gradually fading away, but the light ring remained uphang, emitting stable and warm radiance, becoming the most dazzling and solid beacon of hope on this dark, desperate land!

The Light Emissary Beacon, silent for countless years, was finally truly ignited in the correct way! On the continent of Tirumia, the first ancient god Beacon shone once more!

In the chamber, exhausted Astra and Sylas collapsed together by the altar, embracing, looking up at the starlight-reaching pillar with complex expressions of relief yet intensify the heaviness. Hope was ignited, but the ancient god’s whisper foretold their journey was far from over…

On every front line in the capital, the struggling to support defenders saw the soaring pillar, felt the warm light rain, and instantly erupted into thunderous cheers! Morale surged!

Yet, in the deepest abyss, a pair of cold, angry, containing infinite desire for destruction eyes snapped open, firmly “staring” at that light, and the coordinates beneath it…

The flame of fate was lit. A greater storm was brewing.