The Legendary Mage (Alavin)

Lucan's suppressed rage of eight years finally erupted at that moment. A conflagration of fury was unleashed, and his killing intent was towering as he stormed toward Vandill with a maddened zeal. The thousands of guards, as if breaking free from their shackles, transformed into wild beasts, overwhelming the Cobalt Strike Protégés in relentless waves.

Vandill and the Protégés panicked, screaming and scrambling in terror. The Mallister family's guard could not let them succeed. They hacked and slashed without regard for their own lives, unleashing pent-up fury.

The sudden explosion of combat prowess and madness struck fear even into the hearts of The Silent Blade.

The multitude of over two hundred thousand miners were bewildered until the battle truly erupted. Only after Lucan and the others vented their fury, and Alavin's name and his decrees of pardon spread throughout the crowd, did everyone fall silent, stunned for what seemed an eternity. Then, sobs began to echo sparsely across the square, and eventually, over two hundred thousand knelt collectively, their heads in their hands, weeping. Eight long years had finally come to an end.

Was this all truly happening?

Lucan and his companions fought with a frenzy; blood and fire were intertwining and boiling the night sky. Alavin ascended the high platform, bowing deeply to the over two hundred thousand townsfolk. "The Mallister family owes you an apology. From today on, I, Alavin, swear on my life that history will not repeat itself."

Helna and the others were still dazed, as though they were living a dream. Yet, looking at Alavin on the platform, and the crazed Lucan, they trembled. Their eyes were misting over. Led by Korb, they, too, approached the platform, bowing deeply to the crowd, admitting that the Mallister family owed them an apology.

Balder took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. His heart ached at the sight.

Mariela gazed towards the fierce battlefield in the distance. The deadly struggle amidst blood and fire, the Mallister family guard's frenzy, and the Cobalt Strike Protégé's desperate fight. Each scene was shockingly poignant, and the trembling in their souls was audible in every roar.

Mariela's eyes then shifted back to Alavin, her look complex. Perhaps he had planned to kill Vandill and slay every Protégé stationed at Azure Mountain from the beginning. He wouldn't have summoned over five hundred assassins if that wasn't the case.

For eight years, Cobalt Strike had only mocked Alavin's defiance as a joke. They laughed about how, even beaten to a bloody pulp, Alavin wouldn't kneel. They made light of his survival to this day as a miracle and jested about how he lived like a nobleman despite being a servant. But... when that perseverance, that stubbornness, that endurance elevated him from a mere servant to a Golden Protégé to a lord of the town, the meaning completely changed.

The madness of a crazed servant was a joke, but the madness of a powerful being was destruction.

Alavin was still Alavin. He hadn't changed, but the environment had, his status had, his strength had, and everything... would be thoroughly transformed...

Shadowlord's Messenger? It was the first time Mariela truly accepted this title. The Eight Orders Commanders might have made a casual decision, yet it revealed the truest Alavin.

Cobalt Strike had unwittingly forged a Shadowlord and set him free. What would the future hold?

"What are you thinking about?" Balder's smile was still warm and affable, but beneath the reflection of the firelight, it took on a mysterious edge.

"The future," Mariela whispered softly. The spirit within him could not ascend to the heavens without a storm, and The Clash of Eight Orders was that storm. When the storm arose, the spirit transformed, and everything... changed.

"We may have all underestimated Alavin," Balder mused, staring at the deeply bowing Alavin and the plaza of people weeping with joy. He had never imagined Alavin would order the execution of Vandill and the others, a simple decision that reflected his character and signified so much more.

Was this twisted? No! It was courage and unyielding resolve.

"Ha, I love it. I damned well love it." Balder chuckled.

As dawn broke, Azure Mountain was ablaze with activity, bustling and festive. The over two hundred thousand townsfolk finally understood that all of this wasn't a dream; they were free once more; they were going home.

Cobalt Strike had pardoned all their crimes. Their lives were no longer mired in darkness. They could start anew.

They were excited, moved and relieved!

They had heard of Alavin's efforts and knew of his achievements. They were proud and happy because the stronger Alavin became, the more stable their 'freedom' became.

They witnessed Alavin's decisive slaughter and strong stance, yet far from fear, they felt an inexplicable sense of security. After so much hardship, they needed a resolute figure to bravely shield them, a leader daring enough to wield the blade against the wicked.