Prologue: Sol's Legend.

"Let me tell you a story of the one Empyrean Lord who fought on the front lines alongside the Almighty's creation." said the man standing before the desk, facing his students with a cherubic expression.

Regaling the contents of the story appropriate to their age, the man started.

Three thousand years ago. An age where demons declared war on the planet Altrea.

The raiders attacked before dawn; sixty hobgoblins in iron hauberks mantled with strange furs and bearing ash-dulled axes. Their steps were swift as they entered the settlement at the foot of the mountain. A warrior in battered scale armor and bearing a heavy-bladed greatsword over his shoulder led them. Beneath his lion-helm, his face was bearded and raw, burned by a lifetime of war-making under a harsher sun than this. His name was Zoltris, one of the Demon Lord's Generals.

The previous settlements had been easily overcome; little challenge for men weaned on a battle. The spoils were few and far between, but in this strange land, a man took what he could get.

This one would be no different.

Sudden light flared ahead, sunlight gleaming brightly.

Impossible. Dawn was an hour or more away.

Zoltris raised his callused hands as he saw a lone figure standing athwart the settlement's street. His face froze as he saw it was someone in a different dimension. With a pair of massive golden wings, symbolizing true divine origin, and immense in size, symbolizing its power. Light enflamed him. He took a step forward and saw him clad in an ornate golden armor emanating golden radiance akin to sunlight.

With his appearance alone, Zoltris's limbs shiver as he ascertained the identity of the man. He was a man of a different caliber, a man that they weren't supposed to encounter, one of the fifteen Empyrean Lords that serves as this world's protector, Empyrean Lord of the Sun, Sol.

More warriors emerged from the street, taking their place to either side of the man, each gold-armored and bearing a long spear.

The angel looked down before them in indignation.

"After sealing the treacherous Five True Dragon Lords of the Balaur race who threatened to seek dominance over the land created by the Almighty, a race from the underworld dared to do the same knowing what fate will come to them if they do so. I cannot let it happen again, not on my watch."

Sol retracted his wings and lifted his sword as the twelve warriors of elite vanguards formed a wedge with him at their center. Six to either side, they swung their shields and hammered them down as one. Sol made a quarter turn and locked his own shield into place at the apex. His sword slid into the thrust groove beneath the shield's bladed halo.

He flexed his fingers on the leather-wound grip of his sword, feeling the surge-tide of power within him. A coiled fire that ached to be released. Sol held it within him, letting it ease into his flesh. Embers flecked his eyes and his heart pounded in his chest.

The one who wears a lion helmet is the key. Kill him and the rest will falter.

Part of Sol wanted to give the power in his free reign; wanted to scorch these demons to smoldering bone and ash. Their attacks had killed scores of people who served the One with humility. They had defiled the sacred places of the planet Altrea, toppling sacred statues, deconsecrating divine monuments, and polluting the environment with their excretions.

Despite knowing the difference in power, Zoltris laughed it out and swung his greatsword covered in black flames as his men moved away from him. To fight with such a huge weapon and keep it in constant motion needed space. He yelled something in a guttural tongue that sounded like animal bark, and his warriors gave an answering roar.

Zoltris knew that if he retreated, he would die at the hands of his superior, the Demon Lord.

Sol let out a hot breath as the hobgoblins charged, their braided beards flecked with frothed spittle as they pounded toward the vanguards. Sol let the fire into his blood, feeling the power seeping deep within him, heightening his senses, gifting him with perceptions, not of this world

Time slowed for Sol. He saw the pulsing glow of each enemy's heart and heard the thunderous drum-beat of their blood. To him, their bodies were hazed with the red fires of battle-lust. The Lion-helm leaped forward, his black sword hammering Sol's golden shield as if trying to corrupt it with evil. The impact was ferocious, buckling the metal and driving him back a full yard. The Vanguards stepped back with him, keeping the shieldwall unbroken.

Sol's shield blazed with light and Lion-helm's mantle of fur smoldered in its furnace heat. His eyes widened in surprise as he hauled his enormous sword back for another strike.

"Brace yourselves!" Sol yelled as the rest of the corrupt hobgoblins hit their line. Golden spears thrust at the instant of impact and the first rank of attackers fell with their bellies pierced by steel. They were trampled underfoot as the warriors behind them pressed the attack.

The shieldwall buckled but held. Axes smashed down, sinews swelled and throats grunted with the effort of attack. Sol thrust his sword through the neck of a hobgoblin with a scar bisecting his face from crown to jaw. He screamed and fell back, his throat filling with blood. Sol's shield slammed into the face of the hobgoblin next to him, caving in his skull.

The demon battalion line bent back as Lion-helm's sword slammed down again, this time splintering the shield of the warrior next to him. The man dropped, cloven from neck to pelvis.

Angered, Sol didn't give Lion-helm the chance for a third strike.

He thrust his golden sword toward him and a searing echo of its image blazed from the rune-cut blade. White-hot fire engulfed Lion-helm, his furs and hair instantly igniting and his armor fusing to his flesh like a brand. He shrieked in hideous pain, and Sol felt the cosmic power inside him revel in the man's agony. Zoltris staggered backward, somehow still alive and screaming as Sol's fire melted the flesh from his bones. His men faltered in their assault as he fell to his knees as a blazing pyre.

"Onwards!" shouted Sol, and the elite vanguards surged forward. Powerful arms stabbed spear blades with brutal efficiency. Thrust, twist, withdraw. Over and over again like the relentless arms of a threshing machine. The hobgoblins turned and fled from the vanguard's blood-wetted blades, horrified at their war-leader's doom. Now they sought only to escape.

Sol, overseeing them turning their backs on him, narrowed his brows. They were a feral beast controlled by one man, the Lion-helm. Now that their center of command was neutralized, their mindless sense took over their brains and followed their bestial instincts. The battle was over but Sol knew if they were kept alive, they would only regroup to kill again.

Sol could not allow that and thrust his sword into the earth. He reached deep inside himself, drawing on the awesome power from within himself. The sun emerged from behind its highest peaks as Sol thrust her hand to the light.

He dropped to one knee and slammed his fist on the ground.

And sunfire rained from the sky, turning the fleeing hobgoblins into nothingness as an intense heat of the sun's rays lazed above them. It was so intense that the ground turned into a mirror, vitrified by its intense ray.

Sol's shield and a warm translucent barrier fanned out and covered his elite vanguards, protecting them from the deadly conflagration of heat burning everything within a mile radius. If it hadn't been for it, they'd share the same fate with the hobgoblins who vanished in thin air.

Sol's golden wings sprouted again, particles of light basked the elite vanguards with its warmth, healing all those who were injured in the battle and even resurrecting the man who died next to him earlier.

In the anticipation of their victory…No, victory is assured. The elite vanguards cheered as they raised their spears and hands into the air, celebrating.

A threat has been neutralized and so to those other places protected by Empyrean Lords, preserving the peace of the planet of the One who created them.

"The Empyrean Lords kept the peace in the Altrea for over millennia, driving out the forces of the demon lord until now. It's sad that they still exist but when a calamity befalls, they will surely come to our aid again." Cyrus closed the book and smiled warmly at the children.

"So cool! I want to be like him someday! Helping others and defeating bad guys like demons."

Cyrus laughed at one of the children's voices. He approached the kid who asked the question and extended his hands to pat her head.

Rubbing her hair gently with his hands, Cyrus spoke.

"There's nothing impossible, if you practice and train hard, you'll become like him someday. And be the one who will protect those who are in need." invigorated Cyrus.

"Fwah…."

She was charmed by his words.

"Where is Lord Sol now?" one of the children asked.

"He's still here, watching us from the heavens. I'm sure he will visit this world someday."

"Really?! I want to see him and thank him for the good things he did for us."

"Hmm, if you meet him, be sure to tell that. Just a simple word of gratitude will warm one's heart. And I'm sure he'll very appreciate it," said Cyrus.

"Now children, if you want to know more about the history of our world, come to my office, I'll be happy to teach you everything you want to know along with my colleagues."

"Thank you, Teacher!" said the children in unison.

The bell chimed, signaling the class has ended.

"Okay be careful on your way home, see you tomorrow. We will have a short quiz about the basics of magic so I want you to review the topics you have learned today, got it?"

"'''''Got it!"'''''

"Ow, I just remembered, the topic for tomorrow will be the history of this world. So you don't have to come to my office. Well, you can still come if it's related to your studies and lessons. Okay goodbye!"

"Goodbye teacher!" they head over to the door as they waved their hands at Cyrus.

Cyrus waved back, smiling.

A warm feeling crept inside him after they left his classroom. He muttered to himself. "I'll make your wish come true in the future." and then prepared to go home.