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Chapter 10: The Hunt Begins
Last Updated:
2025-02-20 17:16:14
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The Howling Throne Chapter 11: The Hunter’s Path
The forest stretched endlessly before us, a maze of shadows and whispering leaves. Rael moved ahead without hesitation, weaving through the trees like someone who had walked these paths a thousand times before. The rest of us followed, our breaths uneven, our muscles tense. The weight of the Reaper’s attack still clung to the air, thick and unshakable.“What exactly are you?” Bram asked, keeping his hand close to his sword as he eyed Rael suspiciously.“A hunter,” Rael answered without looking back. “And the only reason you’re still breathing.”Freya scoffed. “That doesn’t really answer the question.”Sienna, walking beside me, lowered her voice. “Elior, you felt it, didn’t you?”I knew what she meant. The moment the Reaper had spoken, something inside me had stirred, dark and ancient. A whisper beneath my skin, clawing to be heard.“The Crown has chosen its next vessel.”I swallowed the unease creeping up my throat. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”Rael suddenly stopped, and we
Last Updated : 2025-02-21The Howling Throne Chapter 12: The Trial Begins
Dawn arrived shrouded in mist, the sky painted in muted grays. The outpost stirred to life as hunters moved with silent efficiency, preparing for the day ahead. I stood at the edge of the training grounds, my muscles taut with unease. Today, I would begin to understand what the Crown had done to me.Rael approached, their silver eyes unreadable. "We don’t have time for slow progress, Elior. If you’re going to survive, we need to push you to your limits."Bram crossed his arms. "Great. Just what we need—more ways for him to get himself killed."Rael ignored him and gestured for me to step forward. "The Crown’s power doesn’t just linger—it consumes. The more you use it, the more it will demand. You need to learn restraint."I swallowed hard. "And if I can’t?"Rael’s expression darkened. "Then it will consume you."No pressure.The training began immediately. Rael pushed me relentlessly, forcing me to summon the shadows that had begun to coil within me. It wasn’t just about wielding them
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Pain was the first thing I felt.A slow, crawling agony that pulsed through my body like poison, sinking into my bones. My mind wavered between consciousness and the abyss, each breath a battle. Voices murmured around me—distant, distorted, like echoes in water.Then, a sharp pressure against my side. Fire bloomed beneath my skin.I gasped, jerking upright. Hands pushed me down.“Stay still, you idiot,” Bram growled.My vision swam before sharpening into focus. We weren’t at the outpost anymore. A flickering fire illuminated a cave’s jagged walls, its warmth doing little to chase away the damp cold seeping into my skin. My shirt was torn, my side wrapped in crude bandages, blood seeping through.Sienna sat beside me, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion. Her hands glowed faintly with residual embers, the telltale sign she’d used her flames to cauterize my wound.“You nearly got yourself killed,” she muttered.I tried to speak, but my throat was dry as sandpaper. Freya handed me a flask,
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The wind howled through the mountain pass, biting through our cloaks like unseen claws. Dawn had barely touched the horizon when we set out, the remnants of sleep clinging to our limbs like chains. The Temple of the Hollow lay far beyond the valleys, nestled in the heart of a cursed land where even the most fearless hunters dared not tread.I walked at the front, my body sore, my mind heavier than ever. The weight of the Crown’s power still clung to me, whispering just beneath my skin. The voice I had heard during the battle echoed in my skull—The vessel must feed.I shivered.Sienna walked beside me, her keen eyes scanning the treeline. She hadn’t said much since we left the cave, but I felt her presence like an anchor, grounding me in a way I couldn’t explain.Bram grumbled behind us. “So let me get this straight—we’re heading to a cursed temple that no one has set foot in for centuries, where the last mad king to wear the Crown was buried, all based on a legend?”Rael didn’t even l
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Darkness swallowed us whole.The entrance to the Temple of the Hollow was a gaping maw in the mountainside, its stone archway carved with symbols worn smooth by time. Mist curled around our feet as we stepped inside, the scent of damp earth and something ancient thick in the air.My breath came in shallow gasps. My muscles still ached from the climb, and the wound on my arm burned like fire. But I couldn’t stop moving. Not with the Revenant still shrieking somewhere in the distance.Rael led the way, their silver eyes gleaming in the dim torchlight. “Keep close,” they murmured. “This place is not as empty as it seems.”I didn’t doubt it.Sienna walked beside me, her expression unreadable. The encounter with the Revenant had shaken all of us, but her silence felt heavier. I wanted to ask her if she was all right, but the words stuck in my throat.Instead, Bram was the one to break the silence. “Well, this is nice. Just casually walking into an ancient, probably haunted death trap.” He
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Elior’s breath came in ragged gasps as he pressed a hand against his side, feeling the warmth of fresh blood seeping through his fingers. The pain was sharp, but it wasn’t what unsettled him most. It was the silence that followed the battle—the eerie, suffocating quiet when death had claimed too many.Rael remained at his side, silver eyes flickering in the dim moonlight. “We need to move. Now.”Freya and Bram stood nearby, their weapons slick with blood. Sienna lingered at the treeline, her gaze darting to the path ahead. The Bloodfangs had retreated, but Elior knew they weren’t done hunting him. They never would be.“We can’t keep running,” Bram muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. “They’ll just keep coming.”Rael shot him a sharp look. “And what do you suggest? We wait until they rip us apart?”Elior barely heard them. His pulse thundered in his ears, whispers from the Crown slithering through his mind. The power was there, waiting. It had abandoned him once. Could he trust it aga
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Elior’s breath hitched as the words echoed through the mist-laden forest.Welcome home.It shouldn’t have been possible. That face—that voice—it belonged to a ghost, to someone long lost in the blood-soaked pages of his past. His pulse thundered as he stepped forward, drawn by something he couldn’t explain, couldn’t fight.Sienna grabbed his wrist. “Elior, don’t.”He barely heard her. The figure in the mist remained still, his features identical to Elior’s. The same sharp jawline, the same storm-gray eyes—except where Elior’s gaze carried the weight of battle and loss, this version of himself stared back with something else. A knowing. A certainty.Rael shifted beside him, one hand on his weapon. “That’s not you.” His voice was firm, unwavering. “It’s something pretending to be.”Elior swallowed hard. “Then why does he know me?”The other Elior—if that’s what it was—tilted his head slightly, the edges of his mouth curving into something that was almost a smile. “Because I am you,” he
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The world felt wrong.Elior could still feel the remnants of the strange power thrumming beneath his skin, something dark and ancient lingering in the air around him. The mist had thinned, but its presence clung to the trees like an unshakable omen. He exhaled sharply, willing his heartbeat to slow.He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing there, staring at the spot where his ghostly reflection had disappeared. The others were waiting—watching.Sienna’s golden eyes held an emotion he couldn’t quite place. Fear? Doubt? He didn’t blame her. What had just happened wasn’t natural.Bram shifted uneasily, gripping his sword. “Someone needs to start talking.”Rael’s silver gaze flicked between them before settling on Elior. “That wasn’t an illusion, was it?”Elior swallowed, his throat dry. “No.”A tense silence followed. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and blood, but something else tainted the air—something old.Freya stepped forward, her fingers still wrapped tightly around th
Last Updated : 2025-02-23
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The Howling Throne Chapter 125: The Last Dawn
The morning was quiet.For the first time in centuries, the world stood untouched by magic. No whispers of power hummed in the air, no lingering remnants of the forces that had once shaped destiny. The battle had ended, but the silence it left behind felt heavier than war.Elior stood at the heart of the ruins, his sword planted in the shattered ground. The bodies of those who had fought and fallen lay scattered around him, the echoes of their final moments still fresh in his mind.Myrra, who had been with him since the beginning. Bram, whose laughter had once made the darkest nights bearable. Freya, who had returned only to be taken once more.And Sienna.The wind moved through the ruins, stirring the dust. It carried no magic, no voice of the gods—only the weight of what had been lost.A faint groan pulled Elior from his thoughts. He turned to find Velora slumped against a broken pillar, her face pale, her body barely holding on.He knelt beside her. "Velora."She opened her eyes, s
The Howling Throne Chapter 124: The Final Reckoning
The sky above the ruins bled shadow and light, twisting in a chaos that defied reality. Where the veil had once held firm, now only a gaping wound remained, spilling its horrors into the world.Elior stood at the edge of the abyss, his sword trembling in his grasp, his breath ragged. Across from him, Sienna hovered above the cracked earth, her form wreathed in shifting darkness. Her golden eyes, once fierce with ambition, now pulsed with something else, something vast and unknowable.She had become its vessel.The force that had slumbered beyond the veil now coiled within her, filling the hollow spaces left by her lost magic, binding itself to her very soul. The entity did not speak in words, nor did it rage like the gods of old. It did not need to. It simply was, and it would remake the world in its image.A consuming will. An endless hunger.And Sienna had let it in."Elior," she said, her voice layered, as though more than one presence spoke through her. "You don’t have to fight me
The Howling Throne Chapter 123: The Breaking Veil
The moment Sienna’s fingers brushed against the unseen force, the world trembled. It was not a simple shift in the earth, not the groan of stone settling after centuries of silence—this was something else. A deep, resonating shudder rippled outward from the ruins, traveling through the bones of the world itself.Elior felt it as a pulse beneath his feet, a vibration in his chest that made his breath hitch. The air thickened, weighted with something ancient and wrong. The torches lining the ruined temple flickered violently, their flames bending toward Sienna as if drawn by an unseen tide."Sienna, stop!" Elior lunged forward, seizing her wrist and yanking her back. Her breath came in sharp, shallow gasps, her golden eyes wide with shock."I… I didn’t mean to.." she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.The stone beneath them cracked. A fissure split through the floor, black mist hissing out like breath from a slumbering beast. The world itself seemed to recoil, and then—A shoc
The Howling Throne Chapter 122: The Unseen Threshold
The ruins were breathing.Elior could not see it, but he could feel it, the slow, rhythmic pulse of something ancient beneath the stone. It was not the heartbeat of a slumbering god, nor the distant echo of Erythos' severed power. It was older. Deeper. A presence that did not simply exist but had always been.The whispers were everywhere now, slithering between the cracks in the walls, curling through the air like smoke. They were not words in any language Elior knew, but he understood them nonetheless.This was not a place of worship. It was a tomb.And the dead were stirring.Sienna stood at the edge of the ruins, staring into the yawning darkness beyond the shattered archway. The pull was stronger here, an invisible tether wrapping around her ribs, drawing her forward.She should have been afraid.She wasn't.Far behind them, the capital was unraveling.Rael sat in the royal chambers, hands clenched around the arms of his chair as voices clashed around him. The council was in chaos
The Howling Throne Chapter 121: The Stirring Dark
The wind howled through the fractured streets of the capital, carrying with it the scent of ash and the echoes of whispered fears. Elior stood at the palace balcony, watching the uneasy city below. Torches burned like scattered stars in the night, illuminating gathering crowds, desperate, restless, searching.They had fought for this world, yet standing here now, he wondered if they had merely unchained something far worse.Behind him, the council chamber erupted into another round of arguments.“We need action,” a noble snapped, his voice edged with panic. “If magic is failing, we must restore it—by any means necessary.”“And how do you propose we do that?” another countered. “Rituals? Blood sacrifices? We do not even know what is causing the unraveling.”Rael stood at the center of the storm, jaw clenched as he faced the gathered lords and scholars. “I understand your fear,” he said, voice steady despite the chaos. “But we will not turn to desperation. We need answers, not reckless
The Howling Throne Chapter 120: The Awakening Veil
The first signs of unraveling came in silence.Not the quiet of peace, but an unnatural stillness, a void where the hum of magic should have been.Elior felt it first as they rode through the city, making their way back to the palace. The air itself seemed thinner, as if the breath of the world had been stolen. He glanced toward Myrra, who clutched the remnants of the First King’s records in her hands, her expression tense.The streets were shifting. The capital, usually filled with merchants, performers, and spellcasters weaving their craft, had grown eerily subdued. Those who once relied on magic to shape their daily lives, the street magicians conjuring flames, the scribes who penned glowing runes, now stood idle, their gifts failing them.And then there was the whispering.It came in the wind, barely discernible, like voices speaking in forgotten tongues. Elior stiffened as a cold breath swept past his ear, the words twisting in ways his mind could not fully grasp."It is waking…"
The Howling Throne Chapter 119: Echoes of the Hollow Age
The capital was unraveling.Elior had known it from the moment they passed through the gates.The sky hung heavy and gray, as if the heavens themselves hesitated to move forward into a new day. The streets, once bustling with life, were thick with uneasy silence, broken only by hurried whispers and the occasional sharp cry of panic. Mages clustered in groups, their robes in disarray, their hands twitching as they attempted and failed to summon even the simplest of spells. Merchants and nobles alike watched with growing dread, their power, both political and literal, slipping through their fingers like sand.Magic was fading. And the world did not know how to survive without it.Rael strode ahead of the group, his expression unreadable, but Elior could see the tension in his shoulders. He was returning not as a warrior, not as a wandering hunter, but as the late king’s son, one who would have to answer for the chaos left in their wake.The palace loomed before them, its towers once gle
The Howling Throne Chapter 118: A Fractured Dawn
The battle was over.But dawn did not break with celebration.A pale light stretched across the sky, hesitant and thin, casting its glow over a ruined battlefield that still reeked of celestial fire and scorched stone. The remnants of divine fury clung to the air, unseen but heavy, pressing down on the weary figures that stood amidst the wreckage.Elior ran a hand over his face, his fingers coming away stained with blood, his or someone else’s, he wasn’t sure. His sword, the weapon that had struck the final blow, felt heavier than ever at his side. The world should have felt lighter, freer, but something was wrong. The victory felt hollow, the silence too deep.Myrra knelt among the shattered remnants of the ancient tome, her fingers tracing the fading ink of the First King’s records. The final words were barely legible now, as though the knowledge itself had begun to wither.She exhaled sharply, gripping the pages. “The seal worked.” A tremor ran through her voice. “But something....
The Howling Throne Chapter 117: Ashes of the Divine
Silence.Not the peaceful kind that follows a battle well won, nor the stillness of an early dawn. This was the silence of something broken, something vast and incomprehensible that had been ripped away, leaving only a hollow absence behind.The battlefield was unrecognizable. The ruins, once ancient and imposing, were reduced to charred fragments, their sacred stones blackened by the celestial fire that had consumed Erythos. The air was thick with the scent of ash and the lingering echoes of divine fury. Even the sky, once torn open by the god’s awakening, hung heavy with dark, unmoving clouds, as if the heavens themselves had yet to understand what had just transpired.Elior stood in the center of it all, his sword still clenched in his shaking hand. His body was battered, his limbs aching from wounds he had no memory of receiving. The weight of exhaustion settled over him like a crushing tide, but he could not move, not yet.Erythos was gone. Severed. Banished from the world foreve
