Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Book of Deceive: Kabanata 71 - Kabanata 80

PREPARATION I The ageless river-king appeared from the deeps of the murky river that snaked its way through the sheer mountain side. His bright green skin illuminated everything with a palette of green tones. He stood tall, proud and fierce as the tallest mountain, which dominated the countryside. His dark green eyes were cold as ice; his damped bear covered most of his large scaly body, unwashed rows of matted hair fell almost to his waist. Although he was strong, his footsteps were light and almost silent, too silent. He moved with a dose of gracefulness that couldn't be seen in the other river-kings. Fires and thunders, appearing from staff,     shook the countryside. Fierce he was in his anger. Something deep inside of him, told him that things were about to change drastically for better or worse he didn't know. There was no way of knowing.    II In Spikehorn,

The emperor had to find a compromise soon. Vilhorn was a war state. They rode for days, without rest, from the capital of Vilhorn. The trip would be much longer if the roads stayed the same as they were in the first days of the new empire. Hundreds, no, thousands came to make the road a bit easier to travel. They were close. Going farther into the country, they have seen fewer and fewer villagers. The villages were abandoned. The wells were poisoned. The forests were burned. There was a shortage of food and drinking water. In the center, even a bigger terror awaited them. Most of the houses were in ruins. The fire was spreading everywhere. The villagers were dying, some from hunger, while some from exhaustion. General Souma couldn't believe that something like this could happen. They could feel the anarchy in the air. It was foul. How could warriors of their renown do this? There was no answer. It couldn't be imagined. Someone else was involved. But who was pulling the strings? They

IGrasmere, a few days later…In the backyard behind his house, the merchant Masaru was spending time with his family. It was quiet outside. He, this majestic city, was never this much quiet. This must be the first time, that they heard this much silence, since they settled here. Always, from somewhere the noise of the men leaving or entering the inn could be heard or the voices of the samurai that were patrolling the streets. This night was special. It was too warm for their taste. "Finally, I can't believe it! Peace and quiet! A man could get used to this," said the merchant after a short break. He was watching the rooftops. There was no snow, which was odd; the snow always fell in this time of year."I can't get used to it," his son said, lifting his head from the scroll."Me too," said the daughter. In her hand, she was holding a calligraphy brush."At least, the humidity isn't high," the

IThe old man stood near the willow tree. He stood there, alone, forgotten. He was more than helpless; he was stronger than most men of his age. His face was stern. His nose was a bit bigger, crooked near the tip. His jaw was strong, almost anvil-like. His hair went in waves down his back.The children left his storytelling to play. Will they return? There are always those who will listen to his tales. He waited. Nearby, the children were playing with their own hand-made wooden swords. The man still waited, nobody returned. It was time to go. He turned, waited a bit more and walked towards the large, moss covered, building. His sixth sense was working overtime. One of the children was running behind him. He turned."Where are you going?" the child asked."It's time to rest," he replied."Not until you finish your story.""So, you didn't forget.""No.""Good to hear," the man stopped in his track,

THE BOOKThe public library, in Lorth, was founded by a wealthy citizen Quertin, whom the family disowned do to his failed political campaign. Every book he had, he gave to the library as a gift. The workers are still cataloging then, even today. People say that in the endless piles of books, there are those that are rear, extremely rear.The building, itself, stood long before Quertin was born, in the beginning it was a command post, later it was dormitory of student of magic. It had many more usages, until the town decided to expand the previous library.At the end of his life, Quertin tried his hand, again, in politics.  Even this time, fate had a different card to play. He could do little against full-day and guerilla campaigners. Did he have another option? It's hard to say. Whatever the case may be,  Two figures slowly walked down the large hallway. They were searching for something or someone. It matters not, they are ne