All Chapters of THE NETHER ALCHEMIST: RISE OF ZEGRATH VOID: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Nelanian found it difficult to open his eyes. The sun shone brightly in the morning, and the birds outside the shanty couldn't stop singing. He finally succumbed to their annoying alarms and decided to get up. Over the last three days, his headaches had gotten worse, and his hand had gotten even worse. The twitching became more frequent and intense. Everything appeared to be going wrong for him at that point.When he went outside, he noticed that the weather was calmer than it had been on previous days. The trees had not been ripped out of their roots, and the sunrise was visible on the horizon, unlike the last days that were filled with violent storms. He noticed that the market had already been renovated and that most of the stalls were up and running as he glanced downwards towards the village. Nelanian beat off the dust on his trousers and began his desce

The hotel was deafeningly silent. Nothing except the clanks of ceiling fans rotating could be heard. Luciana, who had been running for warmth, had become tired of it. She was on one of Jalon's couches. Jalon On the other hand, was outstretched on the bed, messaging feverishly on his smartphone. The television was turned on, but none of them bothered to search for a suitable channel to watch. On the screen, there was nothing except static. Luciana was finishing the final slice of the pizza they ordered. The remaining half-eaten crusts were strewn around the coffee table. They were each completely immersed in their own worlds. ]   Jalon would occasionally put his phone down and yawn long and loudly before picking it up again. Luciana began flinging pieces of paper she ripped from a d

Another migraine seized him as he concluded his descent and got closer to the entrance, and he stumbled to the ground, landing on scorching Ashes. As he strained to climb back up, the scorching heat burned the hair on his hands. Even though no one will be on-site, The Screams will be heard loud and clear. The burning of wooden building poles to red hot coal indicated that the fire had been raging for some time. Unafraid of the blazing flames, Nelanian stumbled across the settlement. As he traveled through the Narrow Road heading to the old man's house, the rooftops collapsed behind him.As he approached the house, his rough top was soaked in sweat, and he walked barefoot over the scorching Ashes.His vision was hampered by the dense smoke, and he couldn't see what he was treading on. All he could hear were intermittent screams, his heart pumping loudly, and the crackling noises created by burning houses. "He yelled, “Old man!” in th

Working was made considerably more difficult by the frigid night. It wasn't the throbbing headaches or the enigmatic ebony night sky that bothered him. His flesh was being eaten away by the cold. He struggled to get his feet off the ground. It seemed like you were walking about with enormous weights shackled to your ankles. Nelanian did not return the stare; in fact, he did not bother. From the minute he smelled the blazing smoke, he knew and understood that the folks were gone. His chivalrous spirit was convincing him to return and save Sam. But he knew better; his physique wasn't in good enough shape to battle the arsonists. The night sky was dark and ominous, with no stars or a brilliant moon to shine light on the party or the path they were going on. He took one step after another, relying solely on his faith. He could call it whatever he wanted: faith, luck, intuition, or whatever other phrase

The room's ambience was created by an excellent and pleasant lavender fragrance. It was relaxing and tranquil, and it gave the impression of equanimity. Every window was adorned with scented candles, which burned off their fragrant wicks and filled the space with a beautiful smell.Judy was persuaded by the queen to shower and change before the king became irritated. She was still trying her hardest to influence the queen to help her make her escape, despite the fact that she knew it was nearly impossible. She still trusted her slick tongue, though; it had gotten her out of a lot of tight circumstances before, and she trusted it to do so again in this predicament. It didn't seem to be working so far; the queen had built an invincible wall around her conscience to keep it from being persuaded. The wall was created from painful memories and prior events, experiences that left her with both physical and mental wounds that she would carry with her for the rest of her life as