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Chapter 24: Into the Unknown
Last Updated:
2025-02-25 17:01:36
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The Howling Throne Chapter 25: Into the Fire
The journey to Dawnfire was fraught with an eerie stillness, as if the land itself had been holding its breath for centuries. Elior and his companions moved cautiously, each footstep crunching softly against the dead leaves and brittle twigs that littered the forgotten path. The further they ventured, the more the air thickened, laced with something unseen yet undeniable—a weight of history pressing upon them.Sienna walked beside him, her gaze fixed ahead, her thoughts locked away behind an unreadable expression. Freya, ever alert, kept her hands near her weapons, her sharp eyes scanning the trees. Bram, despite his usual gruffness, had fallen into a rare silence, while Rael trailed behind, lost in thought.Myrra, however, walked with an odd sense of purpose. Unlike the others, she seemed unbothered by the haunting atmosphere, almost as if she belonged here. It unsettled Elior, but he kept his thoughts to himself. They needed her guidance.“Dawnfire is more than a place,” she had sai
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The ruins of Dawnfire pulsed with energy, an ancient force refusing to be forgotten. The air was thick with heat, the glowing runes beneath Elior’s feet still smoldering from the vision’s aftermath. His head throbbed from the echo of the voice—the presence that had spoken to him from beyond time.You are not ready.The words had been a warning, but also a challenge. Elior wasn’t sure which unsettled him more.He forced himself to his feet, steadying his breath. Around him, his companions were recovering in their own ways. Sienna rubbed her temples, her expression dark with thought. Freya’s grip on her blade was tight, ready to strike at unseen threats. Bram cursed under his breath, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the lingering sensation.Rael, however, was staring at the markings on the ground with an unreadable expression. His fingers traced the air above them, as if sensing something the rest of them couldn’t. Myrra stood apart, watching Elior.“You saw it,” she said
Last Updated : 2025-02-26The Howling Throne Chapter 27 - The Descent into Shadows
Elior stepped through the archway, and the world changed.The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the air thickened, pressing against his skin like unseen hands. The ruins behind them faded, swallowed by an unnatural darkness that stretched endlessly in every direction.A corridor of stone descended beneath the earth, the walls slick with condensation, as if the ruins themselves were breathing. Flickering blue torches lined the narrow passage, their flames twisting unnaturally. There was no source for the fire—no oil, no wood—just cold, eerie light burning in defiance of time.“Lovely,” Bram muttered, gripping his axe. “Nothing like a cursed tomb to make a man feel welcome.”Freya ignored him, moving forward with silent steps, her daggers drawn. Sienna stayed close to Elior, her gaze sharp and wary. Rael, ever the scholar, studied the walls, his fingers trailing over ancient carvings etched into the stone.Myrra alone walked with ease, as if she had expected this.“We are no longer
Last Updated : 2025-02-26The Howling Throne Chapter 28: The Price of the Veilblade
The chamber trembled as Elior steadied himself, the Veilblade pulsing in his grasp like a living entity. The whispers, once distant, now screamed inside his mind. His vision blurred, shadows creeping at the edges of his sight. Sienna’s hand on his arm grounded him, but the sword refused to let go.From the darkness, something stirred. A figure emerged—tattered robes, hollow eyes, a presence older than time. It did not walk; it glided, the air warping around it.“You have taken what should remain lost,” it rasped, voice like fractured stone. “And now, the debt must be paid.”The Veilblade burned against Elior’s skin, demanding more than he could give. He gritted his teeth as his heartbeat matched its thrumming pulse. His companions stood ready, yet something in the revenant’s gaze told them this was not a battle they could win.Then the ground cracked. The choice was no longer his.The price had already begun to be collected.A force unseen pulled at Elior’s limbs, dragging him forward
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The path leading away from the cavern twisted unnaturally, shifting under their feet as though the world itself resisted their departure. Elior’s breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his body still reeling from the Veilblade’s lingering grasp. Sienna stayed close to him, her gaze darting back toward the darkened chamber they had left behind."Keep moving," Bram growled, tightening his grip on his axe. "That thing is not going to let us leave so easily."As if in answer, the walls trembled. A gust of spectral wind howled through the passage, carrying the revenant’s voice—an eerie whisper that slithered into their minds. The Veil does not release its own.Rael cursed under his breath. "It's still trying to pull him back. We need to get out before it fully wakes."Freya was already ahead, her daggers glinting as she scouted the path forward. "The exit isn’t far," she called. "But the passage is collapsing. Move fast!"Myrra, usually calm and measured, quickened her pace. "The prison’s wa
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The wind whispered through the dense forest as Elior and his companions moved swiftly, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the collapsed ruins. The sky above had darkened, though no storm brewed—just an eerie, unnatural gloom that clung to the air like a lingering shadow.Elior kept his gaze forward, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of unseen eyes burrowing into his back. Ever since he had touched the Veilblade, something had changed. He wasn’t sure if it was the sword, the vision of the First King, or the revenant’s final words, but the unease nestled deep in his bones refused to leave.The others felt it, too.Bram’s usual grumbling had quieted, his axe always in hand. Freya kept glancing over her shoulder, her sharp eyes scanning the trees. Sienna walked closer to Elior than before, as if waiting to catch him should he stumble. Even Rael, ever the skeptic, seemed on edge.It was Myrra who finally voiced what they were all thinking.“We’re not alone.”They s
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Pain laced through Elior’s body as he forced himself upright. The burning sensation where the shadow had struck him lingered, an invisible scar seared into his very soul. His breath came in sharp gasps, his fingers clutching at the damp earth beneath him as he tried to steady himself. The forest was eerily silent now, save for the heavy breathing of his companions. Myrra’s golden magic flickered around her hands, a last lingering defense against whatever had just tried to claim him.“Elior.” Sienna’s voice was sharp, urgent. She knelt beside him, her hands pressing against his shoulders. “Talk to me. What happened?”He blinked rapidly, trying to focus. His mind still echoed with the last words of the First King—Fight it!“I…” Elior swallowed, his throat dry. “I don’t know.”Rael’s expression was grim. “That wasn’t just some random shadow. That was the Veil itself.”Bram wiped a hand over his face, his knuckles white around the handle of his axe. “Then we should leave. Now.”Freya nodde
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A cold silence stretched between Elior and the Shadebound. The words still rang in his head—You will either wield the Veil or be consumed by it. He felt the weight of the statement settle deep in his bones, as if something unseen had already begun to twist its fingers around his fate.“No,” he finally said, his voice quiet but firm. “I refuse to be its vessel.”The Shadebound remained motionless, their glowing violet eyes piercing through the dark. “It is not a matter of refusal. The Veil has chosen.”The wind howled through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and something darker, something ancient. Elior felt Sienna step closer, her presence grounding him.“There’s always a choice,” she said, her voice unwavering. “No magic is absolute.”The Shadebound let out a sound that was neither a laugh nor a sigh but something in between. “And yet you walk toward Dawnfire, the place where choice was stripped from kings before you.”Elior stiffened. He had suspected Dawnfire held secre
Last Updated : 2025-03-04
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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
