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Chapter 79: The Shadow’s Warning
Last Updated:
2025-04-04 02:23:16
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The Howling Throne Chapter 80: The Hunger Within
The silence in the chamber felt heavier than before, settling around them like an unseen force. The only sound was the quiet crackling of Elior’s Veliblade and the distant rumble of shifting stone. The shadows were gone, their essence now bound within Rael’s sword, but the tension had not lifted. If anything, it had deepened.Rael exhaled, his grip loosening slightly on his blade. He could still feel the pulsing energy beneath his fingers, the hunger that had stirred each time he struck down an enemy. It wasn’t just a weapon, it was something more, something alive in a way that unsettled him.Elior looked at him with a mix of concern and curiosity. “You felt it, didn’t you?”Rael met his gaze. “Yeah.”Myrra crossed her arms, her eyes flicking between Rael and the sword. “That whisper… It’s not just in your head, is it?”Rael hesitated, then shook his head. “No. It’s real.”Bram let out a long breath. “Great. Just what we need, a sword that talks and probably wants to eat us.”Myrra ig
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The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken fears. Rael could still feel the whispers brushing against his mind like the lingering echoes of a nightmare. He clenched his jaw, pushing the feeling aside. The others were watching him, waiting.“We need to keep moving,” Elior said finally, his voice steady but edged with concern. “Whatever that was, it didn’t stop us. The seal is still here. And we still need to get through.”Rael exhaled sharply, forcing his mind to focus. He could dissect the horrors later. For now, they had a path to follow.Myrra stepped closer to the stone door, running her fingers along the carvings. The glow beneath her fingertips pulsed in response, shifting in hue as if alive. “The runes changed,” she murmured. “When the sword reacted, something altered in their pattern.”Bram groaned. “Great. More magical nonsense. Why can’t a door just be a door?”Elior shot him a glance before turning his gaze back to Rael. “We have to decide now. The sword has alr
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The air beyond the shattered seal was cold, laced with an energy that crackled beneath Rael’s skin. The starlit passage stretched into darkness, each step forward taking them deeper into the unknown. His sword remained silent, its hunger momentarily quelled, but he could still feel its presence, waiting, watching.Elior led the way, his Veliblade casting flickering light against the ancient stone. Myrra and Bram followed close behind, their movements tense but determined. Rael lingered at the rear, his thoughts heavy. He had resisted the blade’s whispers once, but for how long?The corridor widened into a vast chamber, its walls lined with towering statues draped in rusted chains. Some were broken, their stone faces cracked beyond recognition. Others stood untouched, their gazes hollow, their hands raised in silent supplication.Myrra halted, her fingers tracing an inscription at the base of one statue. “This language… it’s older than the First Kingdom. I can’t read all of it, but…” H
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The chamber lay in ruins, dust swirling in the fading glow of dying magic. Rael stood at the altar, his breathing uneven, the ancient blade still clutched in his grip. The others watched him cautiously, their weapons still drawn, their eyes filled with questions.Elior broke the silence. “Are you alright?”Rael exhaled slowly, lowering the blade. “I’m not sure.” He looked down at the sword in his hand, its steel dark with age yet humming with something ancient, something expectant. “This sword… it broke the chains, but it carries a weight I don’t understand.”Myrra stepped closer, her gaze flitting between the weapon and the ruined altar. “Those chains weren’t just physical. They were binding something. Maybe something beyond even the throne.”Bram let out a low grunt, resting his axe against his shoulder. “Great. More ancient doom. Just once, I’d like to break a curse without inviting something worse.”Elior’s expression remained tense. “We need to move. That seal wasn’t meant to be
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A pulse of crimson light beat through the chamber like a second heart, casting long, flickering shadows across the ancient stone. The whispers grew louder, weaving together in an eerie, wordless chorus that scraped against the edges of Rael’s mind. The sword in his grip grew heavier, its hilt biting into his palm as if urging him to act.“Move!” Elior shouted.The tremor beneath them intensified, the ground quaking as deep fissures cracked through the stone. Myrra stumbled but caught herself against an obelisk, its smooth surface now warm beneath her fingertips. Bram planted his feet wide, his axe drawn and ready.Rael tore his gaze away from the pulsing glow and forced himself to think. They were trapped in an underground ruin, standing at the threshold of something ancient and terrible. The First King’s words echoed in his mind.The throne is but a cage, the crown its lock.What had they just done?Before he could dwell on it, the far end of the chamber erupted in a storm of shatter
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The air still crackled with the remnants of power, an unseen pressure lingering in Rael’s chest. The crimson glow had vanished, swallowed by the ruin, but the wrongness in the stars remained. Every familiar constellation had been stretched, twisted, as if the sky itself had shifted in response to what they had done.Rael forced himself to breathe. They needed to move.Elior was already stepping ahead, his posture tense, his grip firm on his sword. Myrra rubbed her temples, still reeling from the whispers that had nearly overwhelmed her. Bram, ever steady, adjusted his axe at his back and exhaled sharply."Let’s not stand here waiting for another ancient nightmare to show up," Bram muttered. "That place already spat out one monster. Who knows what else is down there?"Rael tightened his grip on the book, the weight of it more oppressive than before. The First King’s words echoed in his mind. The throne does not grant power. It takes. It feeds. It is a door.A door to what?He looked at
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The ruins loomed ahead, their jagged silhouettes rising against the shifting sky. Even from a distance, Rael could feel something wrong about the place. The air shimmered faintly, bending light in unnatural ways, as if the city weren’t entirely real, half-formed, caught between existence and something else.They moved cautiously, weapons in hand, their footsteps quiet on the grass. No birds sang. No wind stirred. The silence was oppressive, wrapping around them like a held breath.Bram was the first to break it. "We sure we wanna do this?"Elior didn’t stop walking. "We don’t have a choice."Myrra exhaled sharply. "We always have a choice. We could turn around, pretend we never saw this place, and live slightly longer lives."Rael barely heard them. His eyes were locked on the ruined city, on the way the buildings seemed to pulse, almost breathe. Something wasn’t right.When they reached the outskirts, the ground beneath their feet changed. The grass gave way to smooth, blackened ston
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The wind had not returned.Even with the ruins gone, silence clung to the valley like a curse, pressing against Rael’s ears, making every breath feel stolen. He stood at the edge of the vanished city, staring at the empty land where impossible towers had stood only moments ago.No dust. No rubble.Nothing remained but the scar in the sky.Myrra crossed her arms, gaze locked upward. "Tell me I’m not the only one seeing that.""You’re not," Elior murmured. His knuckles were white around his sword hilt. "And that’s what worries me."Rael barely heard them. His fingers traced the edges of the book, its leather cover warm to the touch. Since leaving the ruins, the ink on its pages had shifted again, crawling like living veins. The words had changed.The throne is no longer sealed.The sky will bear its wound.And the Hollow Crown waits.Rael’s pulse quickened. The Hollow Crown. The phrase had appeared before, buried deep in the writings of the First King, but no one knew what it meant.Myr
Last Updated : 2025-04-04
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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
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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
