2025-11-30 02:10:11The stranger’s sickle gleamed in the dim light of the gauntlet’s runes. Dain’s grip tightened on the hammer, his knuckles white. The air smelled of ozone and old blood, the mine walls pulsing as if alive.
"You’re the one the Order’s hunting," the stranger said, stepping closer. "The last of the s."
Dain’s throat was dry. "I don’t know what that means."
The stranger’s laughter was a hollow thing. "Of course you don’t. Borin kept you in the dark, didn’t he? Thought he could hide you from the fire in your veins."
Dain’s chest constricted. "You knew my father?"
"I knew of him." The stranger reached up and removed their mask.
Dain recoiled.
The stranger’s face was half-scared, the left side a web of glowing veins, pulsing black. Their right eye was milky white, blind. The left was black as the Voidscars.
"The Wyrm’s blood doesn’t just mark you, boy," they said. "It changes you."
Dain’s skin crawled. "Who?"
"Veyla," the stranger said. "Of . And you, Dain, are the key to the Eclipse."
The gauntlet’s runes flared. Pain lanced up Dain’s arm, sharp as a blade. He gasped, stumbling against the wall. The stranger, Veyla, watched, their blind eye twitching.
"It hurts, doesn’t it?" they murmured. "The fire in your veins. The call of the Wyrm."
Dain gritted his teeth. "What do you want?"
Veyla smiled. "To see if you’re worth the blood your father spilled to hide you."
The mine trembled again. Dust rained from the ceiling. Veyla’s smile faded. "They’re coming. The Order. And they won’t stop until you’re ash."
Dain’s pulse spiked. "Then why warn me?"
Veyla’s good eye locked onto his. "Because I want to watch you burn."
They lunged.
Dain barely raised the hammer in time. The sickle clashed against it, sending a shockwave through his arms. Veyla was fast, unnaturally so. They twisted, their sickle flashing toward Dain’s throat.
He ducked, the blade grazing his cheek. Pain flared, hot and sharp. He swung the hammer blindly. It connected with Veyla’s shoulder, sending them stumbling back.
"Good," Veyla hissed, wiping blood from their lip. "Maybe you’re not as weak as you look."
Dain didn’t wait. He charged, hammer raised.
Veyla sidestepped, their sickle slashing across Dain’s chest. He grunted, stumbling, but forced himself upright. The gauntlet’s runes burned brighter. The pain was white-hot now, crawling up his arm like liquid fire.
"You can’t win, Heir," Veyla said, circling. "The blood always wins."
Dain gritted his teeth. "I’m not my blood."
Veyla laughed. "Aren’t you?"
The mine shuddered. A crack split the ceiling. Veyla’s eyes flicked upward. "Time’s up, boy."
Dain didn’t hesitate. He swung.
The hammer connected with Veyla’s ribs. They crumpled, gasping. Dain didn’t stop. He raised the hammer again.
A horn blared.
The Order.
Veyla’s lips curled. "Next time, Heir."
They vanished into the shadows.
Dain barely had time to process before the first knight rounded the corner, sword drawn.
"There he is!"
Dain ran.
The tunnel twisted, the air growing thicker, hotter. The gauntlet’s pulse was erratic now, its runes burning like brands. Dain’s vision swam. He could feel something, someone, calling to him. A voice like grinding stone, like molten steel.
"Heir…"
He stumbled into a chamber, its walls carved with ancient runes. At its center stood an altar, its surface cracked and stained. A mural covered the far wall—a dragon coiled around an anvil, its jaws wide as if screaming.
Dain’s breath caught.
The dragon’s eyes glowed red.
"You’re here."
Dain whirled.
A woman stood in the chamber’s entrance, her armor the color of bone, her sword dripping with blue flame. Her face was hard, her eyes cold, but something flickered in them. Something like recognition.
"Dain of Black Hollow," she said. "The Dragonforge Heir."
Dain raised the hammer. "Who are you?"
"Serra," she said. "Of the Order of the Silver Flame. And I’ve been sent to kill you."
The gauntlet burned.
Dain didn’t lower the hammer. "Then do it."
Serra didn’t move. "I saw what you did to Lira."
Dain’s chest tightened. "That wasn’t me."
"Wasn’t it?" Serra stepped closer. "The fire in your veins. The mark on your arm. The Wyrm’s blood."
Dain’s hands shook. "I don’t know what that is."
Serra’s sword didn’t waver. "It’s the end of the world."
The chamber trembled. The mural’s dragon roared.
Serra’s eyes flicked to the ceiling. "They’re here."
Dain didn’t wait. He swung.
Serra parried, her blue flame meeting the hammer’s fire. The clash sent a shockwave through the chamber. Dain didn’t stop. He struck again. Again. Each blow sent pain searing through his arm, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t.
Serra blocked, her movements precise, ruthless. "You’re strong. But you’re still just a boy with a hammer."
Dain roared, putting all his weight behind the next swing.
Serra dodged, but not fast enough. The hammer grazed her shoulder. She hissed, stumbling back.
For a heartbeat, they both froze.
Then the ceiling collapsed.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 75: The Heart of the Abyss
The forest swallowed the villagers whole.The trees loomed like skeletal sentinels, their branches twisted into grotesque shapes, casting fractured shadows across the uneven ground. The air was thick with the scent of rotting leaves and something older, something metallic, like blood left to rust in the dark.Dain led the group, the black stone from the stranger clutched in his fist, its pulse weak but steady, like a dying heartbeat. The Blade of Severing rested at his side, its runes dormant, but the weight of it felt different now, lighter, yet heavier with the knowledge of what lay ahead.Serra walked beside him, her sword unsheathed, its blue flame flickering in the gloom. "This place feels like a grave," she muttered, her eyes scanning the shadows.Dain didn’t answer. He felt it too, the forest watching them, judging them, waiting for them to stumble.The villagers followed in a tight group, their weapons drawn, their faces set with determination. Garrick clutched his hammer, his
Chapter 74: The Nameless Heir
The return to Black Hollow was not a victory march.The villagers trudged through the gates, their faces streaked with soot and exhaustion, their eyes hollow with the weight of what they had seen. The warding stone in the square pulsed with a faint, unsteady light, its golden glow flickering like a dying ember. The air smelled of burnt herbs and damp earth, but beneath it, something older lingered, a scent like metal left too long in the rain.Dain walked at the front, his steps slow, his hand clutching the Blade of Severing. The scar where the King’s name had once burned was gone, but the skin beneath it ached, a phantom pain that echoed the void’s hunger. His eyes were dull, the fire that had burned in them after the glade now extinguished. He felt hollow, like a vessel drained of its purpose.Serra stepped beside him, her sword sheathed, her expression grave. "You look like hell," she said, her voice low.Dain didn’t glance at her. "I feel like it.""The villagers are scared.""The
Chapter 73: The Final Bargain
The void unfurled before them like a living storm.The figure that emerged from the pillar of black smoke was not a man, nor a beast, but something older, something carved from the absence of light itself. Its form shifted, rippling like oil on water, its edges blurring into the darkness.The villagers recoiled, their weapons raised, their breaths ragged in the cold air. The thing stood taller than the King, its presence pressing down on the valley like the weight of a thousand graves.Dain stepped forward, the Blade of Severing clutched in his hand, its runes flaring golden against the dark. The scar where the King’s name had once burned ached, a phantom pain that echoed the void’s hunger. "You are the thing beneath the roots," he said, his voice steady.The void laughed, a sound like cracking ice and rusted chains. "I am the hunger that birthed your King. I am the silence before the scream."The villagers shifted, their grips tightening on their weapons. Serra stood at Dain’s side,
Chapter 72: The Path of Thorns
The forest swallowed the villagers whole.The trees loomed like skeletal sentinels, their branches twisted into grotesque shapes, casting fractured shadows across the uneven ground. The air was thick with the scent of rotting leaves and something older, something metallic, like blood left to rust in the dark.Dain led the group, the black stone from the stranger clutched in his fist, its pulse weak but steady, like a dying heartbeat. The Blade of Severing rested at his side, its runes dormant, but the weight of it felt different now, lighter, yet heavier with the knowledge of what lay ahead.Serra walked beside him, her sword unsheathed, its blue flame flickering in the gloom. "This place feels like a grave," she muttered, her eyes scanning the shadows.Dain didn’t answer. He felt it too, the forest watching them, judging them, waiting for them to stumble.The villagers followed in a tight group, their weapons drawn, their faces set with determination. Garrick clutched his hammer, his
Chapter 71: The Silence Before the Storm
The village of Black Hollow stood under a sky the color of bruises, the air heavy with the scent of burnt herbs and damp earth.The villagers moved through the square like shadows, their voices hushed, their eyes flicking to the forest as if expecting the trees to part and release something worse than the King. The warding stone in the center of the village pulsed with a faint, unsteady light, its golden glow flickering like a candle in a draft.Dain leaned against the well, his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the tree line. The Blade of Severing rested at his side, its runes dormant, but the weight of it felt different now, lighter, yet heavier in ways he couldn’t name.Serra approached, her boots crunching on the gravel, her sword sheathed but her stance alert. She didn’t speak at first, just stood beside him, her eyes scanning the horizon. "The villagers are scared," she said finally, her voice low.Dain exhaled, rubbing the smooth skin where the scar had once burned. "They should
Chapter 70: The Void’s Hunger
The clearing trembled as the figure emerged from the pit, its form wrapped in shadows that twisted like living smoke. The villagers recoiled, their weapons raised, their breaths ragged in the cold air. The thing stood taller than the King, its presence pressing down on the glade like a storm gathering. Its voice, when it spoke, was not a sound but a vibration in their bones:"You have woken me."Dain stepped forward, the Blade of Severing clutched in his hand, its runes flaring golden against the dark. The scar where the King’s name had once burned ached, a phantom pain that echoed the void before him. "We didn’t wake you," he said, his voice steady. "We came to end you."The thing laughed, a sound like stones grinding together. "You cannot end what you do not understand, little Heir."The villagers shifted, their grips tightening on their weapons. Serra stood at Dain’s side, her sword ignited, its blue flame casting eerie shadows across the clearing. Garrick clutched his hammer, his
You may also like
Rise of the Useless Son-in-Law
Twilight33.3K viewsIce Monarch
RidiculousRobinn69.9K viewsKingsman Return
Kuraii154.3K viewsKing of succubus
Golden_raise92.1K viewsLEGENDARY ASCENSION
Big Odin308 viewsEnchanted: Next Life
LUNARE2.8K viewsBarrier Fall
True villan224 viewsBloodline of Ash and Fang
Wesley Inkborn 309 views