All Chapters of THE FORGOTTEN SON-IN-LAW : Chapter 151
- Chapter 160
275 chapters
Chapter One hundred and forty
The chamber convulsed as if the earth itself resisted the battle. Roots snapped like whips, stones tumbled from the ceiling, and the spiral sigil on the wall flared in violent crimson. At the heart of it stood Adrian, his blade of ash glowing like a dying star, and before him towered the faceless covenant, its limbs stretching to blot out the chamber’s light.The being’s voice roared like thunder from every direction at once:“Blood defies blood. Flesh denies oath. Then perish, child of rebellion.”It struck.Tendrils of shadow lashed at Adrian with the speed of lightning. He dodged the first, cut through the second, but the third wrapped around his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. His scar seared white-hot as though his very blood rebelled against him.With a roar, Garrick hurled his hammer, smashing the tendril apart before it crushed Adrian’s ribs. “Stand, lad!” he bellowed, though chains of shadow now coiled around his legs, dragging him closer to the abyss.Selene darted
Chapter One hundred and forty-one
The news traveled faster than riders could have carried it. Whispers leapt from tongue to tongue, passing through taverns, camps, and market squares until they reached even the highest courts. The Shrine of Black Roots had fallen. The covenant was broken.For generations, lords and kings had lived in the shadow of the Cole blood pact, fearing it, revering it, bending to its unseen weight. Now, that fear fractured. Some wept with relief, others cursed in disbelief, and still others clenched their fists, terrified of what a world without that ancient chain would bring.But in the dark citadel of Hollowspire, one man received the news not with confusion, but with fury.The chamber was lit by braziers burning with black flame. Darius stood before his council, his scar blazing, eyes locked on the trembling courier who had delivered the message.“You dare repeat such lies to me?” Darius’s voice was soft, but it carried the weight of thunder.“My lord… the shrine is gone. The ground swallo
Chapter One hundred and forty-two
The ride south was slow, their horses weary and the air still tainted by the echo of the covenant’s death scream. Adrian had hoped for relief when the shrine collapsed, but instead, he felt only silence — a silence heavy enough to press against his ribs.When they reached the outlying villages, the stares of the people told him what words had already spread: they knew. Farmers paused mid-harvest, blacksmiths let their hammers still on the anvil, mothers pulled children closer. None dared speak first.At last, an old woman stepped forward, her hands gnarled by age. She touched Adrian’s arm, her eyes filled with tears.“It’s gone, isn’t it? The shadow that’s haunted us?”Adrian nodded once.The woman fell to her knees, sobbing. Others followed, some weeping with relief, others bowing as if before a king. But not all faces were grateful — many were fearful, uncertain of what would follow now that the ancient power was gone.Days later, in Ashford Keep, Adrian faced the first gathering
Chapter One hundred and forty-three
The throne room of Hollowspire had once been a cathedral, its high arches filled with chants of devotion. Now, Darius sat upon a throne of blackened steel where the altar once stood, cloaked in the banners of his new order. The fires of war cast shadows that made him seem larger than life, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability.“The covenant is broken,” he declared, his tone sharp as a blade. “The gods who promised protection are gone. What remains? Fear. Chaos. Hunger for power. Do you think Adrian Cole will feed your families? Protect your borders? Unite your clans? No. He preaches freedom, and freedom is nothing but an empty hand.”A hush fell over the gathering — nobles, warlords, and mercenaries who had come to see what shape the world would take after the covenant’s fall.Darius rose, his presence filling the hall like a storm.“I will forge order from this ruin. Not by prayer. Not by chains to ancient ghosts. But by will — mine, and yours if you swear it. Together
Chapter One hundred and forty-four
The great hall of Wyrmspire Keep smelled of smoke and old stone. Adrian stood at the center, his cloak damp from the storm outside, his eyes sweeping over the gathered leaders who had answered his call. They were few — a smattering of village elders, two seasoned captains, a disgraced noblewoman, and a priest whose faith had not yet crumbled with the covenant.It wasn’t much. But it was a beginning.Selene placed a map upon the table, her slender fingers tracing the jagged line of provinces now claimed by Darius’s Empire of Will. “He tightens his grip by the day,” she said quietly. “If we don’t move now, his shadow will cover the realm before spring.”The priest, Father Rowan, lifted his head, his voice steady though his robes were threadbare. “The people still whisper Adrian’s name with hope. They say he walks not with chains, but with truth. That is power no tyrant can smother.”A bitter laugh rose from Captain Ryn, scarred and battle-weary. “Hope won’t hold a sword, Father. Dari
Chapter One hundred and forty-five
The morning after the storm, the keep buzzed with uneasy energy. Horses were saddled, weapons sharpened, and every corridor echoed with hurried footsteps. Yet beneath the tension lay a fire — not of fear, but of defiance.Adrian stood on the battlements, Selene at his side, watching smoke curl on the distant horizon. The banners of Darius’s vanguard rose like black spears against the gray sky.“They come faster than expected,” Selene murmured, her hand resting on the hilt of her shadowforged blade. “He means to crush us before we can take root.”Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Then let him come. A seed grows strongest when it pushes through the weight of the earth.”Behind them, Captain Ryn stomped up the stone steps, his scarred face grim. “Two thousand men, maybe more. We have less than five hundred who can hold a blade. This isn’t a battle — it’s slaughter.”Adrian turned, his gaze steady. “Not if we fight smart. Not if we remind them that fear has limits.”They gathered again around the
Chapter One hundred and forty-six
The valley became a furnace of steel and screams. Arrows split the mist, piercing the first ranks of Darius’s legion. Shadows coiled down from the cliffs like serpents, Selene’s hand guiding them with a cruel grace.“Hold!” Adrian’s voice cut through the chaos, steady as stone. His soldiers, though green, tightened their line at the pass, spears bracing against the flood of armored men.The crimson-armored commander laughed as he strode through the press of his own troops, twin axes gleaming in the dim light. His helm was crowned with iron spikes, his presence alone forcing men to falter.“Which of you is the son of ash?” His voice carried over the din. “Step forward and meet a real warrior!”Adrian’s cloak whipped in the wind as he advanced, his sword in hand. He did not raise his voice. He did not boast.“I am Adrian.”The commander sneered. “Then today, I carve your name into the dirt.”Their weapons met with a thunderous crack. Sparks flew, shadows twisted, and the battle seemed
Chapter One hundred and forty-seven
The chamber of iron torches flickered low in the heart of Darius’s citadel. He sat upon his throne of black steel, one gauntleted hand resting on the armrest, the other toying with a dagger that had never known rust. The messenger who had brought word of the legion’s defeat knelt before him, trembling.Darius listened in silence, his gaze sharp and unreadable. When the man finished, sweat dripping down his brow, Darius leaned forward.“So… Adrian rises from the ashes.” His voice was calm, almost thoughtful. “He has lit a spark, and fools gather around it.”The messenger dared a glance upward. “My lord, shall I… summon the full legions? Shall we burn the north to cinders?”Darius smiled faintly. “No. Crushing him outright would only turn him into a martyr. Ashes burn brighter when scattered by the wind. No… we will drown him. Not with swords.” He leaned back, his eyes narrowing. “With fear.”He rose from his throne and walked toward a great map carved into the floor, showing the provi
Chapter One hundred and forty-eight
The bells of Dawnmere had always rung with joy — morning prayers, market days, weddings. But when the iron shadows came, the bells tolled only once, cut short by screams.Dawnmere was a small village tucked in the folds of the northern hills, one of the first to swear quiet allegiance to Adrian. They had sent him food, blankets, even a handful of sons to wield spear and shield at the keep.Now, those sons would never return home.Darius’s Black Guard descended like a storm. They did not march in formation — they bled through the fields and cottages like wolves through sheep. Homes were set aflame, livestock slaughtered, families dragged screaming into the night.At their head rode a captain in blackened mail, his banner a serpent coiled around a crown. His orders were simple: “Burn it. Leave survivors enough to whisper Adrian’s name with hate.”And so they did.By the time word reached Wyrmspire Keep, Dawnmere was smokey. A lone child stumbled into the camp at dawn, soot staining her
Chapter One hundred and forty-nine
The camp was restless. News of Dawnmere’s fall still hung in the air like smoke, and whispers spread through the ranks like disease. Some soldiers sharpened their blades with feverish resolve. Others stared into the fire, their eyes clouded with doubt.Adrian stood at the war table, his finger pressed against the map. Another village — Briarstead, a cluster of farms on the river road — lay directly in the path of Darius’s advance.“He’ll strike there next,” Adrian said, his voice low but certain. “Briarstead has grain, water, and hearts that lean toward us. If it burns, we lose not just food, but faith.”Captain Ryn frowned, arms crossed over his scarred chest. “We’re stretched thin already. Half our men are patching wounds from the valley fight. If we march now, we risk walking into a trap.”Lady Elara leaned forward, her eyes flashing. “And if we don’t march, the people will see only ashes in Adrian’s wake. Do you think Darius doesn’t count on our hesitation?”The tent fell silent.