All Chapters of LIROIDS: Chapter 171
- Chapter 180
236 chapters
Iron Teeth
Iswa arrived quietly, without banners or announcement, the way love often does when it knows it may not be welcomed.For the first two days, she watched her mother.Felt still rose before dawn. Still ruled with meticulous grace. Still spoke gently to servants and scribes alike. But there were absences, small things a daughter noticed because she had grown up inside them.Her mother no longer corrected Tan’s excesses.She no longer softened decrees after his rages.She no longer waited.When Tan passed her in the corridors, Felt inclined her head with flawless courtesy, and nothing more. No lingering glance. No tension. No fear.It unsettled Iswa more than any shouting ever could.“This isn’t you,” Iswa finally said one evening as they shared tea in the study. “You used to fight storms with bare hands.”Felt smiled faintly. “And I grew tired of bleeding.”The summons came three days later.A scroll, already approved, sealed, and dispatched to court, had been questioned. Tan demanded he
The Root of Calm
Xylem smiled when she saw Snake kneeling in the temple.He had been there for hours, back straight, hands folded, breath measured by will alone.“Brother,” she said warmly, her voice echoing through the high stone arches, “you look well.”“As well as the Goddess wills,” Snake replied without lifting his head.She circled him slowly, observant, unhurried. “I am to teach you a few lessons on control. Though,” she added, amused, “you are already very good at pretending you have it.”He exhaled. “What was the trigger?”She stopped in front of him. “Yes. What was it?”“The greed of mortals.”Xylem smiled again, but this time it did not reach her eyes. “That is known to you. What was the true trigger?”Snake finally looked up. “What does this have to do with anything?”She extended her hand and helped him to rise. His legs trembled; he had not realized how long he had knelt.“I must know the root,” she said gently, “or I cannot help you.”He said nothing.“Well then,” she concluded lightly,
Home Beneath the Root
Dark was the one who came for him.Snake noticed her smile first, quiet, genuine, as she moved through the bustling temple grounds like any other woman of Doomsany. Here, royals walked unguarded. Who would dare harm a Liroid? And who would be foolish enough to try Dark?Someone had.They had been caught within the hour.By Dark’s own decree, the traitors, outsiders who thought Doomsany soft, were sentenced to blood eagle and flaying. A brutal end, but a swift one by Liroid standards. It was said often that if death must come, pray it comes by Dark’s hand and not Evilside’s, dark ended lives. Evilside unmade them.Snake said nothing when he heard. He did not need to. This was his sister. She had taken revenge for him.She took his hand, and together they walked through the city.They spoke of nothing important, and everything that mattered. Old memories. Small grievances. Laughter that came easily. In the marketplace, voices quieted just enough to notice them, heads bowing lightly, smi
Soft Shields and Sharp Crowns
The celebration rolled deep into the evening, lanterns glowing like low-hung stars across Doomsany’s streets. Music softened into laughter, and laughter into stories half-remembered and half-invented.That was when Doom arrived.She did not announce herself. She never did.The air simply… shifted.Glass stiffened first.Pattern noticed instantly.“Well,” Doom said, her voice smooth and carrying just enough to still the nearest conversations, “if it isn’t my elusive daughter. I hear you’ve returned to my city without so much as a greeting.”Glass turned slowly, plastering on a polite smile. “Mother. I was under the impression you preferred peace over ceremony.”Doom arched a brow. “I prefer obedience.”Pattern stepped forward, not between them, but beside Glass, his posture relaxed, his voice gentle.“My queen,” he said with a respectful bow, “my wife meant no disrespect. She wished only to celebrate her brother’s return. I take full responsibility.”Glass shot him a look. I did not as
Of Birthdays and Blades Unused
Morning broke over Doomsany with the sound of bells, soft, layered chimes tied into the roots and archways of the city. Glass’s birthday was not marked with pomp at first, but with movement.Children arriving.The academy gates opened before noon.Lake came first, tall for his age, already wearing his calm like armor. Mist followed, her eyes everywhere at once, fingers brushing walls as if listening to the city breathe. Echo ran ahead of them both, laughing, nearly colliding with a market cart before Core caught her by the back of her tunic with a practiced sigh.“You are going to get us executed one day,” Core muttered.“That’s later,” Echo said cheerfully.Behind them walked Drought and Deathsentence, unmistakable even out of uniform. Drought carried himself with quiet gravity, already weighed by expectations. Deathsentence smiled too easily, eyes sharp, absorbing every detail like a weapon catalog.Then came Passion.And Sky.Sky looked like a man marching to execution.“I want it
Love…Simple Love
The celebration was already loud when Game and Scream finally arrived.Late, very late.Dark noticed immediately.She turned, eyes narrowing, arms folding slowly across her chest.“Scream.”The single word carried the weight of judgment, affection, and threat all at once.Scream winced theatrically. “Before you say anything…”“You are late,” Dark snapped. “On my sister’s birthday. Again.”“I had something to take care of,” Scream replied calmly, stepping aside.Game was already gone.She ran straight into Cir’s arms, wrapping him in a fierce hug.“Father!”Cir laughed, the sound booming and warm, lifting her off the ground. “There you are, little storm. I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”Beroot leaned over to Dark, smirking. “Well, at least someone here is happy to see their father.”Cir shot Dark a grin. “For the record, my queen, I missed my wife more than you did.”Dark scoffed. “Blasphemy.”Beroot chuckled. “Come on, Cir, give my wife some air. You know these two practic
A Mother for a time
Doom watched from the edge of the celebration.She stood where the lantern light thinned, and the music softened, where laughter reached her a breath later than everyone else. Her grandchildren ran freely, weaving between tables and guests, their Liroid blood mixing easily with that of allied houses and old friends. Drought laughed with Lake. Deathsentence debated the rules of a game with Echo as if it were a matter of law. Mist danced barefoot. Core watched everything, sharp-eyed and already calculating.They were whole.She was not.Doom did not let it show.She straightened her back, smoothed her sleeves, and approached Glass with the dignity that had broken nations.“Happy birthday,” Doom said, voice even, formal. “You have built a good life.”Glass smiled, warm, genuine, but she did not step away from Pattern’s side. “Thank you, Mother.”That was all.Doom nodded once, then turned, already preparing to leave.A hand caught hers.Not firm. Not demanding.Just… there.Snake.He did
Bonding
The celebration did not end that night.It spilled.One day became two. Two turned into three. The City of the Root forgot the meaning of silence as music threaded through its streets, drums answered laughter, and fires burned low and warm long after the moons had climbed and fallen again. Merchants closed early. Guild banners stayed raised. Even the guards grew lax, smiling as children ran between their boots.Shiver became the center of it all.At first, it was Lake who claimed him, lifting him onto his shoulders as though the world were built for carrying children. Then Mist braided charms into his hair. Echo taught him how to mimic bird calls until the rooftops answered back. Core followed closely, counting steps, making sure he never wandered too far.Soon, Shiver was inseparable from his cousins.They slept in piles. They ate together. They argued over nothing and everything.By the third day, complaints began.“I swear,” Mist said, arms crossed as she watched Lake sharpen a bla
Cellok and The Library
And so, on the fourth night, the celebration finally loosened its grip on the city.One by one, torches were extinguished. Music faded into soft murmurs. Horses were brought out, packs tightened, and children lifted half-asleep into saddles or arms. The City of the Root exhaled, satisfied and full.Trina stood a little apart, her hand pressed lightly to her chest.Snake noticed immediately. Evilside and her perfect timing.“The barrier,” she said quietly before he could ask. “It’s closing.”He nodded. Evilside had never been cruel with her mercy, but she was exact. Trina had one day, no more. Another sunrise away from Kindraloy would burn through her lungs and veins alike.Rage was already mounted, watching the road with narrowed eyes. For once, even she did not argue.Snake turned to Dark and placed the final stack of sealed scrolls into her hands: court cases, border disputes, trade approvals, and punishments yet to be carried out.“I’ve written my judgments,” he said. “If anything
The Festival of Masks
The trail had gone cold for months.After Elo was cleansed and rewritten into the City of the Root, most believed that Evilside’s replacement system, the scattered contingencies meant to rise when a Liroid attended the root festival, had been completely dismantled. Most. Snake had never been among them.Systems like Tan’s never relied on one piece. They were hydras: cut one head, and another learned to hide better.The survivor had done exactly that.He vanished during the chaos of the festival season, shedding identities the way serpents shed skin. By the time whispers surfaced again, they spoke of Mellow City, a place too orderly, too disciplined, too clean for criminals to thrive unnoticed.Which meant only one thing.Someone powerful was protecting him.Or he believed he was untouchable.Mellow City rose from the plains like a living contradiction, soft lights, flowing banners, canals that reflected the sky so perfectly it was difficult to tell where water ended and air began. Day