All Chapters of Swordbound Chronicles: Chapter 1501
- Chapter 1510
1656 chapters
Preemptive Magic and the Dawn Pause.
"We even have a magical army consisting of Imps, Foliots, Geniens, and Afrits whose power could level mountains and boil seas. You will be reduced to dust if you remain stubborn and refuse to surrender!""Signed – The Great King of Udristan!" The signature rang out like a death sentence pronounced by fate itself.The atmosphere fell silent with quiet that stretched like a taut bowstring. It was a silence that was only apparent on the surface, masking the storm brewing beneath.However, inside everyone's hearts, a fire was burning brightly with intensity that could melt steel. When the news bearer Udristan turned with his horse, after it had taken ten steps, Niossae, leader of the Dark Elves, approached the Enchanter like shadow given purpose.She said in a low voice that carried promises of terrible vengeance. "My Lord Enchanter. You only need to command me with a single word and that insolent messenger will know the meaning of true terror.""I guarantee that the Udristan messenger wi
Dawn at the Field of Hope.
It was a bright morning in Field of Hope, as a reddish light slowly rose toward the horizon like a crimson blade cutting through the darkness. The sun had not yet risen in the east, but its promise painted the sky in shades of blood and gold. However, since early morning, the Vellenor army had been preparing by donning their armor, each piece of steel gleaming with morning dew and the oil of careful maintenance.The sound of thousands of footsteps echoed as they stepped on the ground, accompanied by the beating of war drums that fired up their spirits like thunder from the heavens. The sound of trumpets, a combination of the clanging of metal armor and the rhythmic pounding of drums, created a symphony of approaching war. All of this startled the animals that usually basked in Field of Hope, and they ran away in fear, sensing the bloodshed that would soon stain their peaceful meadow.In the air, a gentle breeze mingled with the earthy scent of the soil, filling the lungs with the last
Jorah’s Thunder
In the distance, a middle-aged man could be seen among the Udristan soldiers, standing apart from the common ranks. He stood alone in the middle of the crowd, his presence commanding attention like a lone mountain peak. He looked majestic in his bearing, radiating power that could be felt even at this distance.He was dressed in a white robe that fluttered in the wind like the wings of a great bird, and stood on a chariot pulled by two demonic beasts whose eyes glowed with supernatural fire. The chariot itself was carved with symbols of dark power that seemed to writhe and move in the shifting light."Is he the wizard they call The Great Jorah?" asked Hogret, his voice tight with concern and barely suppressed fear."From his noble demeanor and attire, he seems to be the greatest wizard of Udristan we've been waiting for!" Guo Jiang responded, his eyes never leaving the distant figure. His voice carried the weight of recognition and the understanding of what they faced."He looks like
Phoenix Over the Field of Hope
The golden light did indeed carry hot steam that made their skin feel as if it would peel off, but it was the heat of salvation rather than destruction. The very air seemed to shimmer with divine power.All the young men shivered with a mixture of fear and awe as supernatural forces clashed above their heads. When the golden light sounded like the crackling of tongues of fire, the wind blew over their heads carrying the scent of celestial flames. The loud crackling made everyone cower and bow their heads in reverence and terror.They were afraid of being burned to death by friendly fire, yet filled with hope at this display of power. All the soldiers stared open-mouthed at the golden light as it passed over them and headed in the opposite direction, moving with purpose toward their enemies."By the gods in the heavens! Is that a firebird descended from the celestial realm itself?"That's right, spoken with wonder and disbelief at what their eyes witnessed. It was a large firebird, a g
Charge of the Demon-Steeds.
The roar of the demon beasts' hooves broke the silence like thunder from the underworld as Commander Udristan ordered his cavalry to attack Vellenor. The sound echoed across the battlefield, shaking the very earth beneath their feet with supernatural fury."By the gods! They are all riding demon beasts, not war horses!" Commander Dawa whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief and mounting horror.He gasped when he raised the spyglass, which had been made by alchemists using rare crystals and ancient knowledge. With this device crafted from enchanted glass and silver, Dawa watched with growing dread. Tens of thousands of Udristan soldiers, all raised their swords high like a forest of gleaming death, their blades catching the pale morning light.And the beasts they rode ran very fast, faster than any mortal creature should be able to move. So fast that they outran the warhorses, their hooves barely touching the ground as they charged forward like creatures born from nightmares.Daw
Helix Arrows of Hell.
She was wearing a leather vest, the trademark armor of skilled archers, crafted from the hide of creatures that had never known fear. The leather was supple yet strong, allowing her freedom of movement while protecting her vital organs."Listen to my orders!" Nyima's voice cut through the commotion like a sword through silk. She shouted from the eastern side of Field of Hope, her words carrying the authority of one who had earned respect through skill and courage.Despite the chaotic atmosphere that would break lesser commanders, Nyima was able to control her trained archers with the precision of a master musician conducting a deadly orchestra. Her presence alone seemed to calm the fears of her soldiers."Five thousand sharpshooters, take up arms!" Nyima commanded in a loud voice that rang across the battlefield like the call of a war goddess.Simultaneously, five thousand skilled archers raised their bows and arrows toward the sky, their movements synchronized like the beating of a s
Cursed Arrows over the Field of Graves.
Nyima shivered, her body trembling with more than cold as the reality of their situation sank in. She muttered incoherently, words of disbelief tumbling from her lips like prayers to deaf gods. Then, with a scream that refused to give up, her voice rising above the chaos like a phoenix from flame, Nyima shouted again."FIRE! Do not let them break our spirit!"Once again, a rain of arrows turned the sky gray, blocking out the sun with the fury of Vellenor's response. As the arrows descended with the buzzing of bees, the whirring sound of giant arrow blades could be heard again, that mechanical song of destruction that spoke of Udristan's dark innovations. The giant arrows with their knife-like blades struck thousands of arrows, metal meeting wood in a symphony of destruction.The sound of breaking wood filled the sky like the crying of a thousand broken hearts. Each shattered arrow represented hope destroyed, victory denied.Nyima's eyes blurred with tears of frustration and growing de
Ninurta Unleashed.
Ninurta was an Afrit, a five-thousand-year-old spirit demon whose very presence could chill mortal souls to their core. His experience as a spirit summoned to the world has been countless times, each summoning etching deeper lines of malevolence into his ancient essence.Wizards, or Summoners, frequently contract and utilize Ninurta's power as a war expert whose knowledge of battle spans millennia of bloodshed. In addition to his mastery of evil magic, Ninurta is a seasoned warlord who has fought in countless battles over thousands of years, answering the calls of Summoners who sought victory at any cost.No less than the wars in Babylonia, the wars in Sumeria, and many other wars in the Mystical Lands of the past, Ninurta played a significant role in many of these conflicts, his blade drinking deeply from rivers of spilled blood. All of this was due to his great strength and combat skills that had been honed across eons of warfare.Ninurta was also highly skilled in magic that drew p
Ninurta Struck Down.
Screams of pain mixed with sorrow rang out, deafening the ears with the symphony of war's cruel music. Some of the Vellenor soldiers, weakened by exhaustion, began to falter and open gaps that spelled doom for their companions.This was immediately exploited by the Udristan forces, who came like a flood of malevolent spirits. They attacked relentlessly, without end, their weapons thirsting for blood as desert sand thirsts for rain.There were also demonic beasts that could jump high, capable of leaping over three soldiers at a time with supernatural grace. The riders on these beasts then performed somersaults and slashed at the backs of the shield-bearing Vellenor soldiers with deadly precision.Although the Vellenor soldiers wore iron armor that gleamed dully in the blood-soaked light, the powerful sword strikes still produced a loud clanging sound and caused tremendous pain. The Udristan soldiers followed suit with similar moves, their coordination speaking of long practice in the a
Niossae's Killing Blow.
Ninurta turned around, dread creeping up his spine like ice water. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as primal fear awakened.The figure in front of him looked very mysterious, wrapped in shadows that seemed to move independently. He looked human, but his pale face and gray eyes, like those of a fox, clearly identified him as an elf whose heritage spoke of ancient power."But what kind of elf has black magic and giant hands that struck me just now?" Ninurta became anxious, his warrior instincts screaming warnings.His instincts told him that this was a bad thing, a threat unlike any he had faced in recent centuries. Then the figure in front of him spoke in a low voice that carried the whisper of grave dirt."You're Afrit, aren't you? Remove your disguise and show your true form!" The command rang with authority that made the air itself tremble.Hearing this, Ninurta grew even more uneasy, cold sweat beading on his ancient brow. Only spellcasters with intermediate to high-