2025-12-11 23:26:07
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Chapter 15: The Weight of a Name
The fire consumed the dragon-skull helmet, its blackened metal twisting in the flames like a living thing. Dain watched it melt, the heat licking at his face, the smell of burning steel filling the air.The Wyrm’s whispers were louder now, the Forgotten King’s voice a constant murmur in his mind: "The blood always wins, Heir.""Not today," Dain muttered, turning away from the fire.Serra stood a few paces off, her sword sheathed, her armor scorched and dented. She watched him, her eyes dark with exhaustion and something deeper, worry, maybe. Or fear."We should go," she said, her voice rough. "The Order won’t stop hunting you. Not after this."Dain nodded, but his gaze was fixed on the treeline, where the villagers had vanished. "We can’t just leave them.""We don’t have a choice," Serra snapped, then sighed, rubbing her face. "Sorry. I didn’t mean—""It’s fine," Dain said, though it wasn’t. Nothing was fine. His arm ached, the blackened veins of the gauntlet’s mark throbbing like a s
Chapter 14: Ashes and Dawn
The dawn broke over the scorched earth of Black Hollow like a wound healing, its golden light spilling across the blackened ruins of the village.The air smelled of smoke and damp earth, the aftermath of the Wyrm’s fire still lingering in the cracks of the land.Dain stood at the edge of what had once been his home, the Dragonbane resting against his shoulder, its runes now dull but still pulsing faintly with the echoes of the seven relics. His arm ached, the blackened veins of the gauntlet’s mark throbbing like a second heartbeat.Serra walked beside him, her armor scorched, her sword sheathed but its blue flame still flickering weakly. She didn’t speak. Neither did he. The weight of what they had lost, and what they had gained, hung between them like a silent storm."It’s gone," Dain said finally, his voice raw. "All of it."Serra exhaled, her breath shaky. "Not all. The forge is still here. The people...." She paused, her gaze flicking to the smoldering ruins of the blacksmith’s sh
Chapter 13: The Eclipse Unchained
The caldera of Mount Vorthas was a wound in the world, its black lava bubbling like boiling blood, its slopes cracked and bleeding fire.The air reeked of sulfur and burning metal, thick enough to choke on. Above them, the sky split open, lightning tearing through the storm clouds like claws. The Eclipse Wyrm’s eyes, two pits of voidfire, burned at the mountain’s peak, its maw opening wider with every roar, the sound shaking the earth beneath their feet.Dain stood at the edge of the caldera, the Dragonbane clutched in his grip. The blade hummed, its runes pulsing with the seven relics’ power, their light and darkness swirling along its edge. His arm was a map of fire and shadow, the gauntlet’s runes now etched into his skin, the Gloomshard’s whispers and the Forgotten King’s voice a constant murmur in his mind:"You will fail, Heir. Just like the rest."Serra stood beside him, her sword drawn, its blue flame flickering weakly. The curse from the Vault of the Moonlit Dead had sapped h
Chapter 12: The Dragonforge Awakens
The black lava of Mount Vorthas pulsed like a living thing, its glow casting eerie shadows across the jagged rocks.The air reeked of sulfur and burning metal, thick enough to taste. Dain stood at the edge of the caldera, the seven relics, Embercore, Stormfang, Heartstone, Gloomshard, Soulsilver, Sunspire, and the gauntlet, pulsing in unison against his skin.The runes had spread past his shoulder, now weaving across his chest like living veins, their golden light clashing with the Gloomshard’s darkness.Serra stood beside him, her sword’s blue flame flickering weakly. The curse from the Vault of the Moonlit Dead had clung to her, her movements slower, her breath ragged. "We’re out of time," she said, her voice hoarse. "The Wyrm’s coming. And we’re not ready."Dain clenched his fists. The Sunspire’s heat burned in his palm, the Embercore’s fire thrumming in his chest. The Gloomshard’s whispers slithered through his mind, the Forgotten King’s voice a constant murmur:"You are mine, Hei
Chapter 11: The Blazing Titan’s Crucible
The Blazing Titan’s Crucible rose before them like a wound in the earth, its floating island wreathed in flame and smoke. The air shimmered with heat, the scent of molten metal and burning flesh thick in Dain’s throat. The Sunspire waited there, the final relic, its light piercing the smoke like a beacon.Dain’s arm ached, the Gloomshard’s darkness and the Soulsilver’s cold warring with the Embercore’s heat and the Stormfang’s storm. The Heartstone pulsed in his belt, its rhythm steady, but the gauntlet’s runes flickered, unstable, as if the clashing powers were tearing him apart from the inside."We’re almost there," Serra said, her voice hoarse. Her sword’s blue flame had dimmed since the Vault, the curse of the Moonlit Dead clinging to her like a second shadow. "One more relic. Then the Dragonforge."Veyla didn’t answer. The black chains from their bargain with the Vault had spread, now wrapping their forearm, their fingers twitching as if controlled by something unseen. Their sick
Chapter 10: The Vault of the Moonlit Dead
The Heartstone pulsed in Dain’s palm, its crimson light cutting through the Gloomshard’s lingering darkness. The gauntlet’s runes flared, their golden glow steady for the first time since the Gloomwood.Dain exhaled, the weight of the Sentinel’s trial still pressing on his chest. The vision of Black Hollow’s fall, of Borin’s lifeless eyes, clung to him like a second skin."You took the fear with you," Serra said, her voice quiet. She stood a few paces away, her sword’s blue flame flickering in the twilight. "That’s not how it’s supposed to work."Dain clenched his fist around the Heartstone. "I didn’t have a choice."Veyla’s laughter was a dry rasp. "There’s always a choice, Heir. You just don’t like the alternatives."The land ahead sloped downward, the rolling hills giving way to a valley of mist. At its center loomed the Vault of the Moonlit Dead, its obsidian spires piercing the sky like broken teeth. The air hummed with a low, mournful song, the wind carrying the whispers of the
