All Chapters of The God of War Calen Storm: Chapter 311
- Chapter 320
381 chapters
The Tides of Betrayal
Blood mingled with rain as it poured over the ruined cliffs of Vynoria. Smoke coiled from shattered towers, the scent of steel and ash choking the air. But despite the chaos, the warriors of Vynoria had begun to push back.Led by the Queen herself, Elara descended from the high sanctum like a flame cast from the heavens, sword of light in her grip, her white robes stained crimson. At her side fought Carmen, her pendant pulsing with waves of heat, unleashing spirals of fire that split through the enemy lines.Seraphina, blood running down her temple, directed the remaining spellcasters with gritted teeth. “Keep them from the inner court! One more push!”For a moment—it seemed they could win.Calen stood atop the central wall, his arms raised high, storms swirling in his palms. Lightning struck the vanguard of Aerondale, flinging armored warriors like rag dolls. His cloak torn, body burned, but his eyes never wavered.Then—A rumble.Not from the sky. But from beneath them.The Sacred R
The Storm That Stands Alone
A curved blade sang toward his neck—but Calen ducked low, twisting, and released a crack of thunder that threw her off balance. He turned into a spin, his foot sweeping the battlefield, summoning a cyclone that scattered the flames and soldiers alike.Ebran chanted, his arms glowing with Aerondale’s war sigils. Pillars of fire erupted from the sky—an invocation forbidden by Vynorian laws. Calen raised a shield of wind above him, but the impact still threw him back, skidding across broken stone and ash.He coughed up blood. But he rose.“You’ll die for that child?” Nyra sneered, reappearing in front of him.“I’ll die for every child you would silence,” Calen roared.And then he surged forward—lightning wreathing his body, his storm magic no longer just a weapon, but an oath.Their blades clashed mid-air—wind against shadow, thunder against silence.Every strike shook the earth.Every heartbeat echoed the song of the Sacred River, now screaming for justice.But Calen knew—this wasn’t ju
The Temple Beneath the River
The Sacred River churned restlessly beneath a sky choked with smoke and stormclouds. Its waters, once luminous with divine essence, had turned murky and cold—like a serpent writhing in pain.Carmen staggered to her knees at the riverbank, clutching her chest.“Carmen?” Calen rushed to her, his voice hoarse from hours of battle.She gasped, eyes wide. “It’s pulling me… the river—it knows.”The pendant around her neck flared violently, searing her skin. Blood trickled down her collarbone, and the vision struck like a hammer to the soul.Avenya, bound in light and blood, her scream echoing through stone.Liora, chained and forgotten, whispering her last prayer in darkness.And beneath them both, the temple—hidden where light cannot reach.Carmen’s eyes rolled back. She collapsed.“Carmen!” Calen caught her before she hit the ground, but her body convulsed in his arms. He pressed a hand to her forehead—burning hot.“Breathe—Carmen, stay with me!”The water beside them began to rise.Not i
The Heart of The Sacrifice
The echo of Carmen’s words—“We’re too late”—hung heavy in the air. The chamber trembled slightly under their feet, as if the Sacred River above them was reacting to the final moments of Avenya’s heartbeat.Calen stepped forward, his boots crunching against broken crystal and scorched stone. His breath was ragged, every muscle in his body screaming from the last battle, but his eyes—storm-filled and unwavering—burned with renewed purpose.“No,” he said, voice like thunder. “We’re not too late. She’s still alive. I can feel it.”Carmen knelt beside Liora’s unconscious body, gently brushing dust from her bloodied face. “She’s weak… but breathing. The crystal drained her energy, but it didn’t kill her.”A sudden pulse of ancient magic surged from deeper within the temple. Carmen winced, clutching her head.“The ritual’s not done,” she whispered. “They’re binding her spirit to the heart of the river… If they complete the circle—Avenya dies, and the Sacred River dies with her.”Calen turned
The River’s Wrath
The chamber shook with a low, resonant hum. Calen steadied himself beside Avenya’s unconscious form, sweat dripping from his brow. Carmen knelt near the young girl, her hands glowing faintly as she checked her pulse.“She’s alive,” Carmen whispered. “But barely.”Calen exhaled in relief—but something was different. The air vibrated with power, not from him, not from Carmen… but from her.A faint glow emanated from Avenya’s chest, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The broken symbols on the ritual circle flared to life again—not in menace, but in harmony. Blue and silver threads of energy spiraled upward, weaving into the air.“The River…” Calen muttered. “It’s… not weakening.”Carmen looked up. “No. It’s strengthening. The ritual—it didn’t just try to sever the bond. It... deepened it. Strengthened the link between Avenya and the Sacred River.”Suddenly, a distant roar echoed through the underground passage. A great wave of magic surged outward like a silent thunderclap.***Above
The Dragon’s Blood
The battlefield fell into a hush as the tremors subsided, leaving only the cries of wounded soldiers and the distant hiss of evaporating steam.Then… the mountain split open.A thunderous roar shattered the sky. From the sundered ruins of the ancient prison beneath Vynoria’s sacred ground, something vast emerged. Wings the size of cities unfurled—scarred, cracked, and burned through with time, yet pulsing with power. Scales like molten obsidian glinted beneath the dimming sun as the massive form rose, blotting out the heavens.The great dragon had returned.“Tharstan,” Aelion Draeven breathed, horror thick in his voice. “He… comes.”Gasps echoed across the broken battlefield. The Vynorian legions, bloodied but unbowed, stumbled back. The ranks of Aerondale, struck mute by awe and dread, dropped their blades and shields.All stood still—facing the beast of legend.Calen Storm remained rooted. Wind tore at his cloak, stormlight dancing in his eyes. That presence—he knew it. Not from mem
Real Battle
The battlefield trembled beneath their feet.Above the shattered valley, dark clouds churned like a living beast. Calen stood alone, his silver eyes glowing faintly, cloak torn and hair matted with blood and ash. Across from him, the colossal form of Tharstan loomed, ancient, scaled, and terrible. His voice was the sound of mountains grinding against each other.“Blood of my blood… You resist your fate?”Lightning cracked across the heavens as Calen raised both hands, storm energy spiraling around him like a cyclone.“I resist you,” he spat. “This world doesn’t belong to your vengeance.”Tharstan let out a guttural laugh that echoed through the canyon, awakening fear in even the most hardened warrior.“You are not the first Stormborn to say that. But you will be the last.”Then came the roar of war horns.From the cliffs behind Calen, the armies of Vynoria and Aerondale surged forward—banners torn, armor scorched, but eyes burning with defiance. Queen Elara, wounded but unbowed, led h
The Light Within The Storm
The sky howled with wrath.Crimson clouds twisted above the battlefield, the color of blood and omen. Thunder cracked in deafening bursts, shaking the mountains beyond and turning soldiers' knees to ash. War cries and the clash of blades fell silent beneath the roar of the ancient terror, Tharstan.His form rose like a dark mountain, wings spread wide, casting the land in shadow. Golden runes pulsed across his obsidian-scaled chest, burning with stolen power. Each beat of his wings sent hurricane winds crashing through the armies below.Calen Storm stood at the front line, stormlight flaring around him in wild spirals. His eyes glowed silver-blue, lightning crawling along his arms. But even he faltered.His breath was ragged. His heart thundered against shattered ribs. The storm inside him, his greatest strength, was no longer answering his call. It raged without direction, feeding off his rage, his fear… and something else.Tharstan's voice rumbled like a collapsing world."You were
The Storm Reborn
A hush fell across the battlefield.Smoke and debris still clung thick in the air, masking the chaos of moments earlier. The silence was uncanny, heavy, suffocating. Ash floated like snowflakes through the air. The very earth seemed to hold its breath.Nyra Kael and her faction stood in a loose semicircle around Calen's limp form. The strike had landed. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and vivid against the cracked stones of the sacred ground. His breath came shallow, barely a whisper, like a flickering candle on the edge of extinction. The runes etched on the earth around him, once glowing with protective enchantment, flickered weakly… then dimmed.Tharstan, towering nearby and locked in a tug-of-war with invisible chains of ancient magic, let out a guttural snarl. His wings beat once, stirring the haze, and his molten eyes narrowed in disbelief.“No… no, you fools!” he bellowed, voice shaking the heavens, his claws curling into the ground. “His life is tied to mine. You kill him—”“—A
The Chosen Vessel
As the blinding stormlight erupted from Calen’s body, sending shockwaves across the battlefield and silencing all who watched, Carmen collapsed to her knees beside the edge of the ravine. Her body trembled, not from pain, but from something deeper—something ancient stirring within her. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the noise of the war faded into nothingness.Suddenly, she was no longer in the battlefield.She stood barefoot on a vast expanse of shimmering water that reflected a sky filled with swirling auroras. The air was thick with power, serene and yet oppressive. Carmen turned around, trying to comprehend where she was, when a voice echoed—gentle, regal, but filled with sorrow."You have returned to where it all began, Carmen."From the veil of mist stepped a tall woman with hair like woven moonlight, her eyes glowing with sapphire fire. Her robes shimmered with ethereal silver threads, and an aura of authority surrounded her. Carmen instantly recognized her—Queen Iralyn, the firs