2025-05-27 01:20:29Chapter 78: The Sacred Duel Beneath the Ember Sky
The clash between the Crimson Cleavers and the Mindforged Artificers raged on beneath the burnished glow of the setting sun, a celestial canvas casting molten gold across the arcane sportsfield. The Cleavers, bolstered by brute instinct and the raw fire of ambition, seized an early lead in the first rites of the contest. Yet, the Artificers, scholars of rhythm and pattern, played with methodical grace—chiseling away at the gap until equilibrium was restored. Now, the final rite approached. It was the ninth turning, the twilight inning. All momentum, all magic, all memory converged upon this single crescendo. The Crimson Cleavers took to the mound, their enchanted gear gleaming under spell-lit lanterns. The Artificers, ever-stalwart, rose to bat—tools of war masquerading as polished clubs gripped in gauntleted hands. Upon the batter’s circle stood Kong, the ste
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Chapter 217: The Final Double Doors — Where Stone Breathes and Shadows Wait
Chapter 217: The Final Double Doors — Where Stone Breathes and Shadows WaitHours bled into each other as the expedition carved its path through the tomb’s bowels. The deeper they went, the more the air itself seemed to press down on their lungs — heavy with the taste of dust, decay, and ancient magic that hadn’t seen daylight in a thousand years.Elias led the shadow link that ran beneath the feet of the explorers, a silent witness to every cautious step. They crawled through narrow crevices where stone scraped skin, shuffled along walls that wept moisture, and even leapt across a three-meter gulf of darkness that looked ready to swallow sound itself.At last, they emerged into what every map, rumor, and whispered legend claimed to be the tomb’s heart — the final chamber.Before them loomed an enormous set of double doors carved from seamless black stone. The doors rose higher than any cathedral arch, etched with a grand mural depicting a lone warrior battling an endless horde of mon
Chapter 216: Beneath the Serpent Vault
Chapter 216: Beneath the Serpent Vault Elias had initially planned to explore the ancient tomb alone — quiet, methodical, unseen. But of course, that plan didn’t last long. Sheina, ever the assertive one, caught wind of his preparations and promptly declared that she and the Dragonborn siblings would be joining in. Before he could protest, the campaign had transformed from a silent infiltration into what looked suspiciously like a family field trip into hell. To the Dragonborns, the expedition wasn’t perilous — it was an outing. Despite the stories of adventurers melting alive and vanishing into acid pools, they treated it as if they were about to stroll through a training ground. Truth be told, they’d earned the right to their confidence. Months of relentless sparring with Agnes had refined them beyond human limits. Their movements now carried the precision of honed blades and the arrogance of beings born for combat.
Chapter 215: The Tomb’s Final Call
Chapter 215: The Tomb’s Final Call “Master, you should’ve seen their damn faces!” Bubbles burst out laughing, half-rolling on the armory’s floor as he recounted the chaos that unfolded earlier. His sharp grin glimmered under the forge light as molten sparks danced across the workshop walls. “The HammerStone idiots were so shocked they nearly swallowed their tongues! Tell it to Master, Narito—Sasuki, you too!” From the edge of the chamber, two towering silhouettes stepped out from the shadowed corridor, their presence rippling through the air like a low growl. The former chieftains of the Orcanine and Orcupine tribes—now refined and deadly—emerged to answer the call of Elias, their creator and leader. The mischievous Bubbles had named them himself—Narito and Sasuki—inspired by some nostalgic memory of heroes from his previous life’s anime marathons. The irony was lost on no one, but the names stuck, and surprisingly, both chieftains wore them proudly. Before their evolution, they we
Chapter 214: The Lyta Armory Ascends
Chapter 214: The Lyta Armory AscendsElias and Bubbles stayed perched among the canopy’s shadowed embrace, their eyes tracing every shift and murmur from the camps clustered below the tomb’s gaping mouth. The day had become a quiet theater of greed and discovery, where adventurers whispered secrets they thought were safe.Funny thing—none of them ever bothered to look up. If they did, they’d find orcs crouched like hulking gargoyles among the branches, their muscles taut under mottled skin, and shadows—alive and aware—curling around them like patient predators.“Hey,” one grizzled adventurer grunted, prodding his companion’s shoulder, “where’d you get that chestplate? Mine got wrecked after that arrow trap. Yours still looks fresh from the forge.”The man puffed up slightly, brushing invisible dust off his gleaming armor. A bold insignia—an engraved L shaped like a stylized flame—was carved into the right breastplate.“I’ll be honest,” he
Chapter 213: The Birth of the Lyta Armory
Chapter 213: The Birth of the Lyta ArmoryWhispers moved through the Falcon region like wildfire beneath silk—quiet, quick, and unstoppable. The discovery of the ancient tomb had slipped past the tight lips of the Order, seeping into taverns, guild halls, and every drunken rumor pit from Falconridge to Angora City.No matter how carefully the higher-ups tried to smother it, gold always had a way of speaking louder than secrecy. And adventurers—hungry, broke, desperate bastards that they were—listened better to the sound of coins than commandments. The scent of profit drew them in like blood in shark water.But the tomb itself had turned into a nightmare.More bodies had melted in its acidic corridors than anyone dared to count. Each fresh scream echoing through the jungle was a grim warning, and soon, no one wanted to be the next fool to dissolve for glory.The campaigns stalled.Adventurers fled back toward Angora City
Chapter 212: The Furnace That Sang to the Gods
Chapter 212: The Furnace That Sang to the GodsThe air in the Ashed Lands carried the heavy perfume of burnt iron and scorched sand when Elias returned to the Dwarven forge. Every clang of hammer against metal echoed like a heartbeat under the earth, a rhythm older than any kingdom that still dared to breathe.He stepped through the smog-stained archway and was immediately greeted by the familiar roar of the flames — the kind that could swallow a lesser man whole. But to the Ancient Dwarves, it was a hymn, a living god that demanded sweat and song as tribute.“Boss!” cried Thrain, his thick beard singed at the edges but his grin impossibly bright. “You’ve been gone too long! Barcus tied the knot, I actually managed a home run in that blasted game of hammer toss, and—get this—we cracked the code on the multi-elemental Mithril Artifact!”Elias raised a brow, already feeling the pulse of mana in the air react to Thrain’s words.
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