2025-04-26 22:05:24Eryndor gazed calmly at the slavers. "Before we begin, could you tell me how to get to Kryptoria?"
The burly man and his companions erupted into laughter. "Look at this elf, wanting directions!" one of them chuckled. The burly man grinned. "You're on the right path, elf. A few klicks from here, you'll see Kryptoria's walls. Three silver coins for verification, that's all." Eryndor nodded graciously. "Thank you for your cooperation." With a simple wave of his hand, Eryndor unleashed his feral aura. The pressure pinned the slavers to the ground, their faces contorted in terror. They succumbed to fear, all fell unconscious and were out cold. Eryndor searched their pockets and bags. "Now what do we have here?" His counted the silver coins which had the engraving of a dragon, and a single gold coin which also had the engraving of a dragon. "Wow! That is a great haul! Three hundred silver coins. I recall that Adara mentioned that a hundred bronze coins is equaled to one silver coin, and one thousand silver coins is equaled to one single gold coin. These babies here will serve me well in Kryptoria." Eryndor could not help but smile. He then brought a worn out parchment. "A detailed map of Kryptoria! This is going better than expected!" A letter mentioning a secret underground organization Eryndor's eyes narrowed. "This might prove useful in the long run." With his newfound treasures, Eryndor continued toward Kryptoria. Eryndor walked for an hour and a half. Then, he saw the outline of Kryptoria's walls in the distance. As he got closer, two guards stopped him. They wore chainmail and carried spears. “Show us your verification papers," one guard said. "I don't have any," Eryndor replied. "But I'm happy to get some." "You need to pay three silver coins for verification," the guard explained. Eryndor remembered what the slavers told him earlier. He handed over three silver coins from the money he took. The guards checked the coins and nodded. "Welcome to Kryptoria, traveler," they said. "What brings you here?" Eryndor kept his answer simple. "I'm looking for adventure and new opportunities." The guards exchanged a knowing glance. "Be careful inside," one warned. "Kryptoria isn't an easy place." The guard then handed him a plastic card. "After a period of thirty days, that card will cease to function. You must come to renew it before then." The guard said and Eryndor nodded in agreement. Then, they stepped aside and let Eryndor enter. As he walked into the kingdom, Eryndor's senses came alive. He took in the sights, sounds, and smells of Kryptoria. A new part of his plan had begun. Eryndor walked around, looking for a place to stay. He spotted a passerby and asked, "Excuse me, where can I find a good inn?" The woman smiled. "Try the Silver Stag Inn, just three blocks down that street." She pointed. Eryndor followed her directions and found the inn. Inside, the cozy atmosphere welcomed him. "Room, please," Eryndor asked the innkeeper, a middle-aged woman. "One silver coin per night," she replied. Eryndor handed over ten silver coins. "I'll stay for a while." The innkeeper nodded. "Breakfast is served by 8 am." Eryndor nodded, and the innkeeper led him to his room. "Here's your key," she said, handing it over. "Rest well." Eryndor thanked her, shut the door, and undressed. He lay on the bed, thinking about his next move. "Tomorrow, I'll head to the Adventurers Guild," he decided. With that plan, Eryndor drifted off to sleep. Inside Kryptoria Kingdom's grandest building, Princess Isabella and Lady Commander Adara sat with King Ryker, his golden flower-adorned crown gleaming. "We must discuss your engagement to Prince Arin of Zongarnia," King Ryker said. Princess Isabella frowned. "Father, I don't want to marry him. He's a womanizer and cares little for our kingdom." King Ryker's expression turned stern. "This union benefits our kingdom, securing trade and military alliances. Your personal feelings are secondary." Princess Isabella opened her mouth to protest, but a soldier interrupted. "Your Majesty, an elven envoy has arrived," the soldier announced. King Ryker's gaze shifted. "Show them in. We will discuss this later, Isabella." Lady Commander Adara stood. "I'll ensure the envoy is treated with proper protocol." Princess Isabella's frustration simmered, her thoughts racing. The elven envoys were ushered into a grand, spacious room. King Ryker emerged, flanked by Princess Isabella and Lady Commander Adara. "Welcome, honored elven envoys," King Ryker said, bowing slightly. "I am King Ryker. Please, share your purpose in visiting Kryptoria." Eriol, the lead envoy, inclined his head. "Thank you, Your Majesty. We've discovered the source of the dark forces ravaging the Dark Forest. We require Kryptoria's cooperation to eradicate this evil before it spreads." King Ryker's expression turned grave. "I understand the urgency. However, I must consult with my nobles and generals. Please, stay for a few days while I convene with them." Eriol nodded. "We expected as much, Your Majesty. We'll abide by your customs." The other elven envoys, Althaeon and Namarie, bowed in agreement. Princess Isabella stepped forward. "We'll ensure your comfort during your stay. Lady Commander Adara will see to your needs." Lady Commander Adara nodded. "I'll show you to your quarters." As the elven envoys departed with Lady Commander Adara, King Ryker turned to Princess Isabella. "This development may impact your engagement to Prince Arin. We must consider the implications." Princess Isabella's eyes sparkled with intrigue. Heartwood Palace, Elysia Forest Grand Elder Thorne slammed his staff on the stone floor. "We can't divide our forces! Eryndor's power grows by the day." Elder Lythari countered, "Concentrating our army in one place makes us vulnerable. We must spread our forces to protect our borders." Elder Althaeon argued, "But if we disperse, we'll lack the strength to strike a decisive blow." Grand Elder Thorneas retorted, "A single, unified force is our only hope. We can't afford to weaken ourselves further." Elder Namarie countered, "Unity is one thing, but strategic placement is another. We must adapt to Eryndor's unpredictable tactics." Elder Althaeon snapped, "You'd have us scatter like leaves, easy prey for Eryndor's minions." Grand Elder Thorne's voice rose. "I will not be swayed by fear! Our ancestors united against darkness; we must do the same." The debate raged on, no resolution in sight. Meanwhile, in the shadows, Lyrien watched, listening to the elders' heated discussion. He had his own plans.
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Chapter 93. We Work Together
The council chamber of New Elyria was alive with voices even before Eryndor entered. Torches burned along the stone walls, shadows dancing across the long table where elves, goblins, centaurs, orcs, harpies, and humans sat side by side. It was a sight no one in the Eastern Continent would have believed, that so many races, once bitter enemies, now sat together under one roof.But unity was fragile, and tonight it trembled.The doors swung open. Eryndor stepped inside, his golden hair catching the torchlight, his silver armor gleaming. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. Behind him walked Lucius, ever calm and watchful, and Grimp, the hobgoblin who had been with Eryndor from the very beginning. Isabella, once a princess, now sat at his right hand, her gaze steady.Eryndor sat at the head of the table and folded his hands. “Speak,” he said simply. “What troubles you?”A human councilor, Lord Branwell, rose first. His face was pale, his fingers trembling as he held a parchmen
Chapter 92. The Alliance
The great hall of Valebridge Keep groaned under the weight of voices. Flames burned in golden braziers, casting long shadows across the round table where twelve kings sat in heavy chairs carved with the sigils of their kingdoms. The banners of the Southern Continent—wolves, lions, spears, suns, and towers—hung overhead, but tonight they did not bring pride. Tonight they were reminders of what could be lost.The fall of Draemir had shaken them. The destruction of Kelthorn only days later left no doubt—this was no common war. An evil sorcereress was here in their continent.. and she had brought hell with her.King Harland of Valebridge, the host, rose first. His silver beard spilled over his chest, and his iron crown gleamed. He slammed his hand on the table.“Brothers! We cannot sit idle. The shadow spreads with every sunrise. If we do nothing, our people will be cattle to that witch before the season ends.”Murmurs of agreement rippled through the chamber. But King Rhogar of Stonevale
Chapter 91. Duskmar's First Campaign
The night was darker than a grave. Clouds swallowed the moon, and no stars gave light. The world felt smothered, as though it already belonged to the shadow. Marching feet broke the silence, steady and relentless, like the beating of a single heart. At the front rode General Duskmar, his armor black as coal, his helm carved into the shape of a skull. Behind him stretched thousands of soldiers, once men and women, now bound in chains of shadow, their eyes glowing a sickly white. They did not speak. They did not breathe. They only obeyed.The army stopped when the first torch of Kelthorn flickered in the distance. It was a small farming town surrounded by low stone walls. Chickens clucked in coops, farmers snored in their beds, and lazy guards strolled along the ramparts with half-shut eyes. To them, this was just another peaceful night. To Duskmar, it was the beginning of conquest.He raised his black steel blade, and his voice carried like thunder.“Tonight, this town falls. Half of i
Chapter 90. The Shadow Returns
The great meeting hall of Eryndor’s keep was built of stone and timber, decorated with banners of every tribe, clan, and kin who had sworn loyalty to him. Wolves’ heads, harpy feathers, goblin marks, elven leaves, symbols of unity that once seemed impossible. The torches burned warmly along the walls, but the faces gathered around the table were serious.At the head of the long oak table sat Eryndor, the blonde elf whose calm strength had drawn beasts and men alike under his banner. At his right hand sat Lucius, broad-shouldered and sharp-eyed, his armor gleaming faintly in the torchlight. Beside him was Grimp, the hobgoblin who had followed Eryndor since the beginning, his tusked mouth pulled into a permanent scowl that disguised his loyalty.Further down sat Isabella, the former princess of Kryptoria, her beauty regal even in her simple gown, her hand resting lightly on Eryndor’s arm. Across from her, a wide circle of representatives, a centaur chieftain, a wolfkin matriarch, an orc
Chapter 89. Birth Of BlackRaven
The palace of Draemir was no longer a place of light. Once, its marble walls had gleamed in the morning sun, banners of the royal house fluttering proudly above its towers. Now the stone was stained with black veins of crawling shadow, and the banners had been burned to ash. The great hall, where kings once sat, was drowned in darkness that pulsed like a living heart.At the center stood Sorceress Lyra Moonwhisper.Her silver hair shimmered faintly against the gloom, her crimson eyes glowing like embers in a furnace. Around her knelt hundreds of soldiers clad in black, their armor ink-like, their eyes empty hollows. The Shadow Legion. They waited in silence, still as statues.At the front knelt a towering figure—General Duskmar, her chosen blade, his armor marked with runes that devoured light. His voice was deep and steady.“My mistress. The Legion is ready. Say the word, and they will march.”Lyra’s lips curved into a smile. “Good. But ready is not enough. The world must tremble whe
Chapter 88. Fear in Rakeshire
The town of Rakeshire always smelled of bread and river water. Every morning the air was filled with the sound of fishermen calling out, merchants shouting prices in the square, and children running through narrow cobbled streets. To strangers, it seemed like a place far away from war, far away from the darkness spreading across the lands.But for King Eisblish, the quiet streets were a cage.He walked through the marketplace, his cloak drawn low, his silver-gray beard tucked into his collar. Every step reminded him he was no longer a king. He was a man in hiding. At his side strode his son, Prince Arin, tall and sharp-eyed, his hair the same pale gold that marked him as royal.“Father,” Arin muttered, glancing at a group of blacksmiths hammering iron. “Do you see the way they look at us? They know we’re not from here.”Eisblish didn’t raise his eyes. “Keep your voice down, Arin. The less people notice us, the longer we live.”Arin’s jaw tightened. “Living? You call this living? Hidin
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