1 Prologue

The black and bleak midnight sky shrouded King Erik Blackfire and the long column of knights that trailed behind him into pitch, shading their gilded armors in a darkening hue. A cold gust of wind howled and swept past them, sending their cloaks and banners fluttering as they raced their raptors and armored vehicles.

Sixty thousand Golden Knights accompanied him, hundreds of which carried their banner of atop long lances, a blazing ten-rayed sun across a golden field. Erik whipped the reins harder with one gauntleted hand to hasten their pace. Their reptilian mounts screeched in response, baring their razor-sharp teeth, as huge as knives, and lolled their long and slender tongues as they charged onward. Erik shuddered in spite of himself.

The message from the transceiver had originated from the Great Wall, but he had seen it on the balcony of his castle in Heartfilla while they were supposed to sleep. Ten golden stars that rained down from the dark skies, streaking the dark blanket above, like golden claws towards the horizon.

And there on, he knew. Sefer's Prophecy came true. Their Saviors had arrived, the cure to their almost everlasting life in terror.

The only ailment was, according to the message, was that the bastard of a traitor Rholdan had also returned and had sent his word to the guardians of the Great Wall. Their Saviors were being held captive by him and they had this ghastly hour to save them or they would suffer the same fate as the others, a long time ago. A ritual was being held south of the wall and the Ten were the offering. It was a terrible and confusing timing for the Ten to arrive, only to be captured at the same time. This boiled him in the inside as his squire helped him don his armor to set out for battle. His jaw clenched beneath his thick black beard just by thinking of it. He wanted to know more but that was all of the contents of the message rallied to him. Why would Rholdan give them the chance to save the Ten? He had yet to know the rest and fullness of the details. But he had no choice, they must do this now or suffer again in the next generations.

Queen Bernadette Elwayne had urged to join him on the way to the Great Wall despite his insistence not too.

"I want to see them with my own eyes," she had said. "I want to see the truth about this world."

His wife had been a doubter of the new faith, still hinting of her belief with the old gods but this will open her eyes. So they left with the army, leaving their son, Raverick and daughter, Erika in the hands of their loyal advisers and elders.

So, after thousands of years, after thousands of suns, Rholdan had finally returned, he thought as he rode, but how did he managed to take the Ten Heroic Saviors? And why bring them here? He shook his head and curled his left hand eagerly in to a tight fist against the leather strap of the reins, because his right fist had gone missing along with the rest of his right arm. His golden ring coiled around the finger of his left hand. The right side was coiled with nothing but air. He was left nothing but a stitched and scarred stump of flesh and bone concealed inside the sleeves of his golden robe. He missed his right arm so much. Just a few years ago, they had waged war against the lurking Verteres horde or as they call it, Morphers stalking near the Dome, another protective barrier after the wall. They did so in order to get to know their enemy and hopefully pinpoint their weaknesses.

Though vast, their number wasn't enough. The years of training of being a Heartfillian Knight weren't sufficient for them to battle these creatures that towered them and outmatched them in strength and speed. Erik had heard screaming and wailing and roaring of the wounded and dying and watch his men died right in front of him, dismembered and mutilated, ravaged and eaten, chest skewered . . . and turned. That was the worse, he thought. To be turned into one of these horrible monsters. He remembered how one of them chomped his arm off, leaving him to die if it weren't for Kiara Clairefield and his brother Garett. Due to the rising death toll brought by the Morphers, he was forced to signal their retreat. Brazen trumpets blew hard and loud and the thirty thousand knights that survived fled the corpse-sprawled and blood riddled battlefield while the relentless creatures chased them back to where they came from.

I will crush them all, he thought, I will kill them. They will pay for what they did to my arm. Then I will slay Rholdan myself. They will suffer.

Beyond the small ridge ahead, he could spot the Great Wall looming before them. The massive and immense structure protected the southern part of the kingdom from the horrors that lurked beyond. The wall towered above them by a hundred feet. The thick grey stones glimmered in the pale fingers of moonlight. Above, the crenellations stretched spiking and defensive with phoenix corbels below the parapets, manned by the guardians of the wall with their assault rifles and machineguns. Turrets from the walkways jutted the skies, equipped with huge canons that can blow those Morphers into bits from a mile.

The Great Wall had stood for more than a thousand years now, ever since the previous Ten Heroes arrived to save their world from Rholdan and her pests, months after the latters' arrival. It was built solely by the Lord Creator using that magic gauntlet of his but it cost of his own life.

And beyond the wall, The Dome enclosed them. The invisible structure shielded the whole Kingdom and was the reason Rholdan those Morphers can't step foot on their lands. The moment they do, it will be the end of them. Erik felt relieved by these double layers of protection that coated their lands. It gave his people the sense of calm they needed to carry on with their lives as if the monsters weren't there.

Atop one of the towers of the wall, a giant horn was blown to herald their arrival. Ten guardians of the wall rode out to meet them, atop on their stallions. One carried the golden standard of knights of Heartfilla. Erik lifted his fist above him to signal his men to halt and the sound of the raptors screeching and a thousand pair razor claws pounding on the ground and armored vehicles rumbling echoed into the night.

One of the guardians approached them. They all donned leather jerkins beneath a thick woolen golden cloak. Their rifles strapped across their backs and their longswords sheathed inside the scabbard on their belts. His mount whickered and spurred at the sight of the raptors as if the stallion had never set its eyes on the scaled beast itself. Some of the horses behind him screamed too. He steadied his horse for a moment before speaking to Erik.

"Your High-"

"Where is Rholdan?" Erik gruffed.

"South. He had taken shelter in the ruins of Polter's Castle." He said as he was finally able to keep his mount on check. "The Ten were spotted."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Your Highness," the man bowed, spurred his mount around and beckoned the others to escort them into the wall. "The elders confirmed the fall of the ten stars. It must be them. The scouts also confirmed their presence. Though only one had returned."

"Where is he now?"

"In the bedchambers, resting. He was badly hurt."

"Take me to him." Erik urged his mount forward after he signaled his knights to move on.

Soon, they heard the clinks of chains from the winch tower inside the wall. The great bronze and iron double-door of Calla, one of the many gatehouses of the wall swung open before them. Erik and his knights entered.

"Garret," he called out.

One of the golden knights from the front row rode beside him and removed his helm, a golden armor fashioned in the head of the phoenix itself, revealing a thick face, short-cropped black hair and those same mossy eyes of his. He was about five years younger than him although the fork on his beard seemed to be as thick as his.

"Yes, brother?"

"Assemble the troops on the bailey first and wait for my command.

"Understood, brother." He turned away and carried out his order. Summon Kiara to me. The knights began streaming into the bailey awaiting orders. Soon, Kiara Clairefield stood in front of him, golden hair waving in the knight. Erik leaped from his mount after handling it to a stableman and marched up the serpentine steps of the tower where the scout rested. The lady knight followed him along with four other knights. The path upward was brightly lighted by the rows torches that flickered on the sconces attached to the mural-carved wall. The wall depicted the battles of the previous heroes against Rholdan and the monsters. It was the same for all towers and turrets inside the wall. Erik wondered how the Smith managed to create such structure in details that even the interiors have been functional and intricately designed.

A guard opened the door for them and they entered. Inside, the scout lay abed. A blanket wrapped his body saved for his upper torso. His head rolled on the pillow to face them. When he saw Erik, his smoking grey eyes widened and he attempted to sit up.

"Your Highness," he said.

"What happened?" Erik said as he strode near the bed. The other knights stayed.

Linen bandages wrapped around the forehead of the scout and some bandaids stuck on his cragged cheeks. His face looked like curdled milk and he look emaciated.

The scout sat up, a medic assisted him. He coughed before speaking. "Rholdan killed my comrades. He mutilated him right in front of eyes. I stood there helpless as they screamed."

Erik frowned. "We have nothing more to do about that. I know that you are aware of the risk of your actions. But that is not the pressing matter right now. Tell me of this message of yours."

The scout hesitated for a moment. He looked at each and every one of their faces then he nodded. "Rholdan told things to me. It was about the Ten. He said he had taken them from Escylla while they were still babes and brought them into some other world they called Earth. He had erased their memories and created false guardians to take care of them so as that when they come of age, they would be able to possess the Ten Heroic Arsenals. So, he brought them again here. He told me that he would be sacrificing them for his ritual. A ritual that would cause the Dome to collapse if it wasn't stopped. I was able to escape before he could lay his hands on me. He must be . . ." the scout coughed blood and soon he was choking in it. The medic held him as his body convulsed. " . . .stopped!"

Then his head drooped and he collapsed against the medic, still drooling blood. Silence filled them room.

Rholdan could do that? Erik thought. Just how powerful is he?

"Your Highness," Kiara Clairefield spoke up in a placid voice. Erik turned to her. "If I may ask, how sure are we that these Ten were the real deal?"

Erik creased his brow. Young as she was, Kiara had been one of the few of his knights that was battle-tested, skilled in elemental powers and in slaying those monsters. She was keen and adept in battle. The Clairefield family was among the few remaining clans in the whole kingdom that possessed those magical abilities. Long and tousled golden hair framed her ivory face. Those signature blue eyes of hers and the green beret studded with golden maple leaf buttons exuded confidence and fury to Rholdan and the Morphers.

Erik sighed and nodded to the medic who glanced at them before covering the dead scout with a blanket. Then he turned to Kiara. "It's a Prophecy. It must be true. It has to."

After getting the necessary information he needed, Erik and his men strode down the steps again while they continued in discussing the matter.

"Your Highness," Kiara whispered while they continued walking.

"Yes?"

"Rholdan is cunning with the powers to take anyone against their will." She said, warily. "Can we really trust the scout?"

"What reason do we have not too?" Erik said. "We don't have a choice. Either we believe or not, but both of which could end our deaths."

"Our numbers are not sufficient, Your Highness." she said curtly. "Years ago, a hundred thousand were no match. How much more an army of sixty thousand?"

Erik thought about it for a moment. "We have raptors, Kiara. We have these more efficient weapons now. Last six years, we fought with swords and bows. Now we have these guns and canons, thanks to the brilliant mind of the young Reynald Munchkins that leads the Order of the Creator. We you. And I am confident on the abilities of our knights now. Surely most of them are now hardened veterans of war. What happened in the past won't repeat itself now. We will march tonight."

The door towards the bailey opened.

"We have no choice. It's now or never." He said as he stepped on top of the dais fronting his men. A brazen trumpet blew in the dark of the night. The golden knights clustered and formed in ordered columns right in from of him, still as a tree. He took a deep breath and his voice boomed across the bailey. "Brave knights of Heartfilla, the time has come for us to reclaim what is rightfully ours! Our heroes of the prophecy are out there and we must save them. You see? Even gods require our help. This battle will be history. This wall and dome was not built to protect us from the Morphers ...But to protect the Morphers from us! Tonight, we will march outside this walls and slay them all once more! This time we will succeed!"

The knights grunted and brandished their weapons in the air. They yelled their anguished battle cries. "Heartfilla! Light of Escyllus! Shine on us all! The light that vanquishes the dark!" The raptors roared as well. He kissed his golden ring for luck as he watched the outer gate of the Great Wall creaked and rumbled open and the army of the Heartfillan knights marched outside and charged toward the dark soil with unwavering valor and ferocity.