THE FORGOTTEN SON-IN-LAW

Chapter Eight

Amid the chaos, Adrian struck. He drove his forces like a wedge through their lines, forcing Kael’s men to clash with Julian’s. Soon, the valley was not just a battle—it was a civil war of shadows and traitors.

When enemy arrows rained toward Adrian, Selene threw herself over him, shielding him with her body. The shaft tore her shoulder, but her eyes never wavered.

“You carry the weight of kingdoms,” she whispered through gritted teeth. “I’ll not let them break you.”

Adrian’s heart roared with fury, and with the relic blazing, he cut a path through the enemy as if driven by the fire of gods.

Eleanor stood at Julian’s side, but her soul was torn. Watching Selene bleed for Adrian, she remembered the innocence of her youth—the girl she once was, before jealousy poisoned her heart.

Julian barked orders, his voice venomous. But for the first time, Eleanor disobeyed. She whispered to a loyal knight, “Find Adrian. Tell him where Julian’s reserves are hidden.”

The seed of betrayal had been planted—against Julian himself.

At the height of battle, when Kael’s blade nearly pierced Adrian’s chest, the relic erupted with light. Energy burst outward, shattering enemy weapons and sending shockwaves through the valley.

Kael staggered back, his eyes wide with something rare—fear.

“This… this is impossible!” he roared.

But Adrian’s voice thundered in reply: “No, Kael. This is destiny.”

Seeing his chance at victory dissolve, Julian’s fury boiled over. He ordered his men to turn on both Kael and Adrian, but the battlefield had become chaos. His legions faltered, his betrayal now exposed to all.

Selene, clutching her wound, pointed toward him. “Adrian—it ends with him.”

Adrian surged forward, relic blade raised. But Julian vanished into the smoke, leaving only bodies in his wake.

The valley lay in ruins. Thousands were dead. Kael retreated, vowing revenge. Julian escaped, vowing destruction.

Adrian knelt beside Selene, binding her wound. “You should have stayed behind,” he whispered.

“And miss watching you bend destiny?” she smiled faintly, her hand trembling against his cheek. “Never.”

Back in the city, the people hailed Adrian as a hero. Songs were sung of the valley battle, of the man who wielded the relic against impossible odds.

But Adrian did not bask in glory. He stood before his people and declared: “Kael is not finished. Julian is not finished. We are at the beginning, not the end. I swear, as long as I draw breath, no tyrant will claim this land.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, their faith now firmly tied to him.

Far from the city, Julian descended into catacombs older than kingdoms. There, he met with robed figures—sorcerers who whispered of forbidden rites.

“You failed against the relic,” one hissed.

“Then give me power to crush it,” Julian demanded. “I will pay any price.”

The chamber darkened, and the deal was struck.

As Adrian strengthened his alliances and prepared for Kael’s inevitable return, word spread of Julian’s unholy pact. Whispers of dark armies, of necromancy, of shadows walking as men.

Selene took his hand one night, gazing into the stars. “The war is only beginning, isn’t it?”

Adrian squeezed her fingers. “Yes. The Relic War has begun. And we will face it together.”

Their lips met beneath the starlit sky, a promise forged in love even as darkness gathered around them.

The city roared with life as soldiers drilled, smiths forged weapons, and emissaries from allied kingdoms filled the streets. Adrian stood at the fortress gates, his gaze steely. The relic hung at his side, glowing faintly as though sensing the storms ahead.

Selene joined him, her arm still bandaged but her spirit unbroken. “They believe in you,” she said softly. “Not just as a warrior. As a king.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “I never sought a crown. Only peace. But if war is the only road… then war it will be.”

Far from the city, Julian’s form was cloaked in black robes. Around him, the dead stirred. Skeletons clawed from graves, twisted beasts born of shadows obeyed his command.

Kael arrived with a host of raiders. “This is the army you promised?” he mocked. But his smirk faded when Julian raised his hand and a tide of the dead surged, bowing before him.

“Not an army,” Julian sneered. “A plague.”

Adrian convened a council of rulers from neighboring lands. Some came in loyalty, others in fear, and a few in arrogance.

“Why should we risk our men for your war?” one king demanded.

Adrian placed the relic on the table. Its light pulsed, filling the chamber. “Because this war isn’t mine,” he said. “It is all of ours. If Julian and Kael win, no kingdom survives. Stand with me, or be devoured alone.”

The silence that followed was thick with awe—and dread.

Though her wound healed slowly, Selene took command of Adrian’s spies and informants. One night she uncovered a plot—a noble family within the city, secretly working with Julian.

When Adrian questioned her, she admitted the truth: “They were my mother’s kin.”

Adrian’s heart softened, but his voice remained steady. “Then together, we will root them out. For family means loyalty, Selene—not betrayal.”

Kael, impatient with Julian’s sorcery, launched his own raid on Adrian’s border towns. Villages burned, and refugees streamed into the city.

Adrian rode out personally, relic in hand, and for the first time, he unleashed its full fury. Lightning cracked from the sky, striking Kael’s war machines and scattering his warriors.

Kael retreated, but his laughter echoed on the wind. “This is but the beginning!”

Broken by Julian’s cruelty, Eleanor fled his camp. She arrived at Adrian’s gates in the dead of night, battered and desperate.

Selene bristled at her presence. “You betray us once, shame on you. Betray us twice, and I’ll see you buried.”

But Adrian raised his hand. “Let her speak. Even traitors can change.”

Through tears, Eleanor revealed Julian’s pact with the necromancers—and his plan to march upon the city with an army of the dead.