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last update2023-12-10 23:48:56

The offer seemed reasonable to Calvin, and he handed his phone to Andrew, saying, "Fine! A simple thing that I can easily comply with. Now, make the call, Nania, execute your plan, and be prepared to lose your life if everything fails, Andrew!"

"My heart is yours; shoot me if you want. You can sell all my organs on the black market. I'm sure you'll get many times richer because I'm a healthy person. No alcohol, no cigarettes, no drugs, and I don't have any family to look for me if I die. Fair enough, right? At least, your pain from my deception to your mistress can be healed."

The nameless old man then nodded and said, "Deal, I agree to your offer! Please get my phone from the car; I left it in the bag under the driver's seat. Let's call Nania now."
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  • Season 2-Chp 49

    Even as his legions battered the gates, fires blossomed within the fortress. Supply stores erupted in flame. Wells soured with poison. Barracks collapsed in sudden explosions that left defenders screaming beneath rubble. And every time the council rushed to douse one crisis, another rose.Helena stormed into the war chamber, helm under her arm, smoke staining her armor. “It’s sabotage,” she snapped. “He has hands inside these walls.”Marcus slammed his fist on the map table. “I’ll find the traitors and gut them myself.”But his words rang hollow. Too many fires, too many whispers. The Shadowlord had planted more than spies—he had sown doubt itself.The fortress murmured with rumors.“Elias is no commander. He’s a pretender.”“He’s the Shadowlord’s kin—that’s why the enemy calls him by name.”“He hides the crown to claim it for himself.”Elias heard the whispers even as he walked the halls. Soldiers who had once saluted now averted their eyes. Some councilors avoided his gaze, mutterin

  • Season 2-Chp 48

    The first sign was the smoke.At dawn, scouts on the eastern watchtower saw a dark smear against the horizon, stretching like a wound across the sky. By midmorning, horns carried the alarm through the fortress—an army marched, vast as stormclouds, banners burning with crimson fire.Elias stood on the battlements as the enemy came into view. Ranks upon ranks of soldiers filled the plains, their armor blackened, their faces hidden beneath masks wrought like skulls. Behind them lumbered war beasts chained in iron, their hides scarred, their eyes glowing faint red. And at the center, towering above them all, a black standard rose: the sigil of the Shadowlord.The fortress gates groaned as they sealed shut. Archers lined the walls, mages formed wards, and soldiers gripped spear and shield. Yet for every defender, there seemed a hundred marching against them.Marcus spat over the parapet. “Gods’ mercy… it’s a sea of death.”Helena’s eyes narrowed. “No. Death doesn’t march. This is loyalty t

  • Season 2-Chp 47

    The ride back from Veylor was heavier than the road there. The crown’s iron chest clanked faintly with every step of the horses, its chained weight pressing down on more than saddlebags. It pressed on the riders’ spirits. None of them spoke, though each felt its silent thrum, like a heartbeat that did not belong to the living.By the time the fortress walls loomed out of the mist, dawn had already broken. Guards on the ramparts straightened as Elias, Helena, and Marcus approached. Word spread quickly—whispers of what they carried reached the council chamber before their boots even crossed the threshold.The chamber was full when they entered. Councilors stood restless, soldiers leaned against the walls, and even servants lingered near the doors, eager for news. The sight of the chained chest silenced the room.Elias set it upon the table with a heavy thud. “We found it.”The murmurs broke loose instantly. Some gasped, some cursed, some fell to their knees in half-superstitious fear. T

  • Season 2-Chp 46

    The road to Veylor was a scar through the land. Blackened trees leaned like broken spears, their branches clawing at the pale morning sky. The earth itself seemed sick, cracked with veins of ash where once rivers had flowed. As Elias, Helena, and Marcus rode deeper into the desolation, silence pressed around them—no birds, no wind, only the steady crunch of hooves on brittle soil.Helena broke the silence first. “This place feels cursed.” Her hand never strayed far from her sword. “How long has it lain abandoned?”Elias scanned the horizon. “Since the first age. The chronicles say Veylor was once a citadel of kings. But when the crown was forged, it swallowed its own makers. The city burned from within, and none dared rebuild.”Marcus spat into the dust. “And now we’re riding straight into its corpse. Wonderful.”Yet despite his grumbling, his eyes remained sharp, scanning every shadow.The ruins came into view by midday—a jagged sprawl of stone rising from the earth like a shattered

  • Season 2 Chp 45

    The fortress had become a cage of suspicion. Every corridor hummed with whispers, every torchlit stairwell echoed with rumors. Soldiers eyed each other with unease, councilors whispered in corners, and servants scurried like frightened mice, never lingering too long in one place.Elias felt the weight of it everywhere he walked. The Shadowlord had struck only once, yet the wound he left was festering. Not in the walls, not in the battlements, but in the hearts of his people.Helena was the first to voice what everyone feared.“There’s no defending against an enemy within,” she said as she walked beside Elias along the ramparts. Her sword was strapped across her back, her posture restless, as though even silence might betray her. “If we don’t root out the traitor, then every word spoken in council is already in the Shadowlord’s ears.”Elias nodded, though his mind churned with doubts. “You think it’s one of them? One of the council?”Her silver hair caught the morning sun as she turned

  • Season 2-Chp 44

    The council chamber smelled of smoke and grief. The great oak table, once polished to a shine, was scarred with ash and bloodstains from the battle two nights past. Fewer chairs were filled now—so many had fallen during the siege, their voices gone forever. The surviving councilors sat hunched, their faces drawn, their whispers carrying like the hiss of dying embers.At the head of the table, Elias stood with his hands pressed flat against the wood. He had called this gathering at dawn, though he himself had not slept. The truth of his bloodline weighed heavier than the sword at his hip. He could feel every pair of eyes on him—accusing, questioning, or silently judging.Helena broke the silence first. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the murmur like a blade. “We cannot continue like this. Our walls are cracked, our numbers thin. And now we learn that the man we trusted has hidden the truth of who he is.”Gasps and murmurs rose again. One elder struck the table with his cane. “She

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