2025-04-10 04:53:10As Eryndor and his goblins fled back into the darkness, the surviving elf guards made their way to the Heartwood Palace. Exhausted and wounded, they sought out the Grand Elder and Lyrien to share the tale of the brutal attack.
Upon arriving, the guards recounted the events of the battle, telling of the unexpected ambush and the devastating loss of life. They spoke of Eryndor, revealing that he was the mastermind behind the assault and the one responsible for the mowing of over forty of their comrades. However, the Grand Elder and Lyrien listened to the guards' account with skepticism. They found it hard to believe that Eryndor, a respected member of their community, could be capable of such treachery. The idea that he would lead a band of goblins in a massacre of his own people seemed unthinkable. The Grand Elder's expression remained stern, his eyes narrowing as he considered the guards' words. "You are certain it was Eryndor?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt. Lyrien, too, looked unconvinced. "Perhaps you misidentified him in the heat of battle," she suggested. "Or maybe there was another, similar in appearance." The elf guards exchanged uneasy glances, knowing what they saw. "We are certain," one of them insisted. "It was Eryndor, and his actions were deliberate and calculated." The Grand Elder and Lyrien exchanged a weighted glance, their silence speaking volumes. The guards' words had sown seeds of doubt, but convincing them of Eryndor's guilt would require more than just testimony. As the night wore on, the Heartwood Palace became a hub of activity, with elves rushing to tend to the wounded and discuss the implications of the attack. The Grand Elder and Lyrien, however, remained secluded, deep in conversation, trying to understand how a weak elf they had ostracized all his life could suddenly do something so brazen. Mowing down more than forty elves? That seemed so hard to believe. The Grand Elder and Lyrien stepped away from the gathering, their faces filled with doubt. "It can't be," the Grand Elder said, shaking his head. "Eryndor, leading goblins? The boy couldn't conjure a spark of magic, nor wield a sword to save his life." Lyrien nodded in agreement. "I've known Eryndor since he was a child. He's always been...unremarkable. How could he command such loyalty from the goblins?" The Grand Elder's eyes narrowed. "I want answers. Summon a few of our swiftest scouts. I need them to infiltrate Eryndor's hideout, gather information. If he's indeed behind this, we'll prepare a full assault." Lyrien bowed and hurried off to carry out the Grand Elder's orders. Meanwhile, in the goblin village, Eryndor moved with purpose. He assigned newly rescued goblins to their lodges, ensuring each had food and shelter. The goblins scurried about, eager to please. Those in charge of building houses were doing their best with the logs available. Eryndor didn't have the means to produce bricks yet, so they had to make do with what was available. "Eryndor, sir!" A burly goblin approached, bowing deeply. "The eastern lodge needs repair. Shall we.." "See to it, Gorthok," Eryndor replied with a nod. "Our kin should not lack. They have known slavery all their life, but no more.." As the sun dipped below the horizon, Eryndor surveyed his growing community. Goblins of all shapes and sizes worked together, their eyes filled with gratitude whenever they glanced at him. That night. Eryndor and Grimp were going through their losses. "We have gained eighty new goblins, but most of them are female and young males, none are fit for battle yet. Meanwhile we have lost a total of thirty-eight goblins to both the orcs and elves. We have no fewer than forty goblins fit to battle." Eryndor said and tapped his chin. He knew that the elves will retaliate, and they had to be ready. "Do not worry Chief. If given time, the young ones will grow big and strong. Young goblins grow and mature in six months." Grimp said. "We don't have six months. We might be far and hidden from the elves in Elysia forest, but make no mistake, they will find us before the six months elasped." Eryndor said as he thought hard on this. As a former military officer, he knew he dangers of being unprepared in a battle. Perhaps.. "Grimp, gather all male goblins, as long as they can walk and understand words, gather them all at first light tomorrow, excluding only the old and elderly." Eryndor ordered. "Yes Chief." Grimp responded, even though he didn't know what the chief has in mind, he still trust and obeyed without a question asked. "Good. You are dismissed." Eryndor gestured him to leave. Grimp bowed and left the hut. Sigh! "Hopefully the goddess will be merciful as to hold off Lyrien and his goons for six months." Eryndor muttered. Morning came. Eryndor exited the hut and went to the nearby stream to bath. He return to the hut and found his food piping hot and ready, grilled meat with a few fruits. Grimp came into the hut as soon as he was done eating. "The goblins have been gathered as you ordered, Chief." Grimp said while he bowed. "Great. I will be out soon." Eryndor said and dismissed Grimp. Eryndor walked out of the hut. In front of him were almost seventy goblins gathered around in a rowdy bunch. Most of them were goblin children the height of an eight year old human child. There was no order in the way they stood in front of him, and he plans to change that. Grimp came forward and shouted at the rowdy goblins to stay silent. Grimp brought forth a small wooden platform they had constructed. As Eryndor walked towards it, He willed the system to purchase a voice amplifier. Eryndor stood tall in front of the goblins, all eyes were on him, including that of the other goblins who were not even called. Eryndor began his speech. "Goblins!, today marks a new chapter in your journey. You've chosen to serve, to protect and to defend our nation's values. I salute your bravery and commitment. You stand before me as individuals, but soon you'll become a unified force, unstoppable and resilient. Our mission is clear, to safeguard our village, its people and the freedoms we hold dear. Eryndor paused for emphasis. "You'll face challenges, push your limits and discover strengths you never knew existed. You'll learn to rely on each other, trust in your training and unleash your inner strength. This reminded him of his time in the military, and it filled him with passion he thought had long been forgotten. "Remember, courage is not the absence of fear, but the willingness to act in spite of it. You'll confront uncertainty, but your training, teamwork and character will guide you. Eryndor looked each goblin in the eye. "You are the guardians of our clan's future. Your sacrifices will shape history. Your honor, integrity and compassion will inspire generations. His voice was now rising.. "You will stand tall in adversity! Fight for what's just! Protect the innocent! Lead with humility! Serve with pride!" He paused as he gazed on the shining eyes of the goblins before him. He could see that his words had awakened a conviction in them. It was now time to conclude. "Today, we embark on this journey together. I promise you, unwavering support, unrelenting guidance, unshakeable faith in your potential. Goblins, you are the future heroes of our Clan. Unleash your courage, forge your character and together, we'll shape a brighter tomorrow! We are no longer goblins, for as from today! We.. are.. LEGION!!" Eryndor shouted with confidence. The goblins all raised their Spears and swords high and shouted with utmost conviction. "FOR THE LEGION! FOR THE CLAN! FOR THE CHIEF!" "FOR THE LEGION! FOR THE CLAN! FOR THE CHIEF!" "FOR THE LEGION! FOR THE CLAN! FOR THE CHIEF!”
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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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