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Chapter 32: The Chains of Fate
Last Updated:
2025-03-04 02:26:59
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The Howling Throne Chapter 33: A Sanctuary Found, A Prison Rebuilt
The ruins of Dawnfire loomed before them, bathed in the pale morning light. Elior’s breath misted in the cold air as he took his first step past the crumbling archway that marked the city’s entrance. The others followed in silence, their eyes wide with wary fascination. The echoes of the past whispered through the wind, the weight of history pressing down on them like an unseen force.Bram let out a low whistle as he surveyed the remnants of once-great structures. “I expected more… decay.”“There’s magic here,” Myrra murmured, her golden eyes narrowing. “Something is preserving this place.”Elior nodded, his gaze sweeping over the towering stone pillars and shattered statues that lined what had once been the main thoroughfare. Time had worn away the finer details, but the grandeur remained. More unsettling, however, was the feeling that they were being watched.Freya ran a gloved hand along a wall, her fingers tracing symbols half-buried beneath layers of ivy. “This wasn’t just a city,
Last Updated : 2025-03-04The Howling Throne Chapter 34: Veilbound Truths
The weight of the Shadebound’s warning settled over the group like a storm cloud. The First King was still here—bound, trapped, existing as more than just a memory. And if Elior claimed the throne, he would share the same fate.The wind stirred, carrying whispers that had no source. The ruins of Dawnfire seemed more alive than ever, as though the city itself was listening, waiting.Elior turned his gaze toward the throne. Even from a distance, its presence was undeniable. It sat upon a raised dais at the heart of what had once been a grand hall. Time had worn away much of its splendor, but the throne remained untouched. Ancient, dark, and pulsing with power.“This is madness,” Bram muttered. “A throne that turns kings into prisoners? Who in their right mind would sit on it?”“They didn’t know,” Myrra said. “The First King, the ones after him—they believed they could control it. They thought they had a choice.” She turned to Elior, her golden eyes dark with worry. “You do.”Elior inhal
Last Updated : 2025-03-05The Howling Throne Chapter 35: The Breaking Point
The air around them was heavy with silence. Elior’s words still lingered, wrapping around his companions like an unshakable spell. The weight of the decision settled in his chest, solid and unmoving. He knew what had to be done, but the path ahead was shrouded in uncertainty.Bram let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “Destroy the throne? That’s not exactly something you can just smash with a hammer.”Myrra’s golden eyes flickered with unease. “It was forged with ancient magic, a power tied to the Veil itself. If it’s an anchor, then breaking it might not just unseat kings, it could unravel everything.”Elior turned back to the throne, its dark presence thrumming like a heartbeat. The First King’s warning echoed in his mind.Do not hesitate, Harbinger.His fingers curled around the hilt of the Veilblade. The weapon was the key. It had always been the key. The First King’s final battle had sealed the cycle, perhaps it was time to unmake it.Sienna stepped beside him, h
Last Updated : 2025-03-06The Howling Throne Chapter 36 – The Weight of Ashes
The silence after the throne’s destruction was deafening. Dust and shattered stone filled the air, lingering like the final remnants of an ancient era turned to ruin. Elior remained on one knee, his breath steady but shallow, his fingers still curled as if expecting to grasp the Veilblade once more, but it was gone.The others stirred slowly, as if waking from a long dream. Bram exhaled hard, raking a hand through his hair. “Well, that was either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst.”No one laughed.Myrra rose to her feet, her golden eyes scanning the remains of the throne. Nothing remained but fractured stone and deep cracks in the earth. Yet, the air still carried the ghost of something ancient, a whisper of power that refused to die completely.Rael sheathed his blades with a slow, deliberate motion. “It’s done.” His voice was firm, but there was an edge to it, a wary hesitation. “So why does it still feel like we haven’t won?”Elior pushed himself up, his legs unsteady benea
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The air was thick with the remnants of fading magic, the scent of burnt ozone lingering in the ruins of Dawnfire. The Veilborn were gone, at least for now, but their presence had left something behind, something Elior could still feel pressing against the edges of his mind.His fingers curled into fists. The battle had been won, but it was not victory. It was a warning.Myrra wiped the sweat from her brow, her golden eyes flickering with exhaustion. “That wasn’t supposed to work,” she muttered, shaking her head as if trying to dispel the weight of what had just happened. “The throne’s power should have been lost when we destroyed it. But this… this means something still lingers.”Bram snorted, rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, like whatever the hell those things were.” His gaze swept over the ruins, searching for any remaining movement. “I thought destroying the throne was supposed to stop things like this.”“The throne was a lock,” the First King murmured, his spectral form flickering sl
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The road away from Dawnfire was eerily silent. Even the wind had settled, leaving only the sound of their footsteps against the cracked earth. Elior’s shoulders were tense, his senses sharp as he led the group forward. The battle had ended, but something still felt… wrong.Myrra walked beside him, her golden eyes scanning the landscape. “The Veil hasn’t settled,” she muttered. “I can feel it shifting, like it’s searching for something.”Elior didn’t respond immediately. He felt it too, an unseen presence pressing against the edges of his awareness, watching. It was subtle, like a whisper in the back of his mind, but it was there.Bram grumbled as he adjusted the straps of his pack. “I don’t like this. It’s too quiet.”Rael, who had been walking ahead, suddenly halted. His hand went to his blade. “Something’s wrong.”Elior stilled. He didn’t hear anything unusual, but Rael’s instincts were rarely wrong. He raised a hand, signaling the others to stop.Then he heard it.A faint hum in th
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Silence held the forest in an iron grip. The woman’s presence felt like a weight pressing against Elior’s chest, a force that did not belong in the world he knew. The shard in her palm pulsed, its silver veins flickering like lightning trapped in glass.Elior forced his voice to remain steady. “If that’s the heart of the Veil, then why is it breaking?”The woman studied him, or at least he thought she did beneath the shadows of her hood. “Because it was never meant to last.”Myrra stepped forward, her golden eyes glowing. “That’s not an answer.”The woman turned slightly, her robes shifting like liquid midnight. “It is the only one I will give.”Elior’s patience thinned. “If the Veil collapses, what happens to everything inside it?”For the first time, the woman hesitated. It was barely a flicker, a pause in her stance, but Elior caught it. Whatever the truth was, she was weighing whether to say it aloud.Then she spoke.“It ceases.”The single word sent a chill down his spine.Rael s
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The shard of the Veil pulsed in Elior’s grip, cold and ancient, its silver veins flickering like distant lightning. His breath was still unsteady, the memory of the woman’s final words lingering in his mind."Find the ones who shattered it."His fingers curled around the fragment as if tightening his hold on it would somehow force the answer to reveal itself. But before he could process the weight of her warning, a sharp intake of breath from Myrra shattered the silence.Her golden eyes were fixed on something behind him.Elior turned and his blood ran cold.There, embedded in the earth, was Velibron.It was unmistakable. The obsidian-black blade, streaked with veins of silver light, hummed with power. The very same weapon he had wielded against the Veil. The very same weapon that should not exist anymore.Rael took a cautious step forward, his grip tightening on the hilt of his own sword. “That’s not possible,” he muttered.“It shattered,” Sienna said, her voice unusually quiet.Myrr
Last Updated : 2025-03-12
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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
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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
