2025-08-28 23:58:10
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Chapter 196. Blood of the Dawnlight.
The fortress walls groaned as if alive, stone and steel whispering secrets of centuries past. Rhok moved through its hollow belly, shadows clinging to him like loyal dogs. The air smelled of burnt oil, rusted chains, and incense, a sickly sweetness that didn’t belong here. He could feel it before he saw them: faith, twisted and burning, pressing against his chest.The Cult of the Dawnlight.He hadn’t expected them here, buried in the bones of an old fortress. Dawnlight worshippers were usually loud, fanatical, building temples of gold and fire in the open. But these were different, quiet, coiled, and waiting.The first of them stepped forward. White robes painted with sunbursts, but stained with something darker. Their faces glowed in the flickering torchlight, eyes glistening as if fevered with holy fire. And then—one of them smiled, almost kindly, as though greeting an old friend.“At last,” the man whispered. “The Nameless walks into the heart of the sun.”Rhok’s hand twitched near
Chapter 195. The Silent Fortress.
Rhok walked through the jagged cliffs with the wind tearing at his cloak. The world here was always cruel, but this stretch of land felt emptier than usual. No carrion birds, no scuttling vermin, not even the soft hiss of sand moving across stone. It was silence, the kind that presses into your ears until you can hear your own blood.At first, he thought it was simply his imagination filling the void. But then he stopped, tilting his head as the air seemed to vibrate faintly. A sound, fragile as if whispered into the cracks of the world, drifted into him.It wasn’t the voice of the living. It wasn’t the echo of wind. It was something else entirely.Come…He froze. He had learned enough by now not to trust any beckoning in this realm. Still, the pull was undeniable, like threads tugging at the marrow in his bones. Rhok clenched his fists and exhaled.“Fine,” he muttered. “But if this is another trick, I’ll burn the ground behind me so no one else follows.”The whisper grew stronger the
Chapter 194. Whisper of Velmira.
The night stretched long, the silence heavy. Rhok walked the worn path alone, only the crackle of fireflies flickering in the distance to remind him that the world had not yet gone silent. His boots scraped across broken stone, every step echoing faintly, swallowed by the darkness of the underworld’s veins.He felt it before he saw it, her presence. Like a ripple in still water, Velmira’s essence crept into the cracks of his mind. His chest tightened, not in fear, but in recognition.The shadows stirred, and suddenly, shards of fractured light cut across the path. Each shard carried her face. Her eyes, grey, almost silver watched him from a hundred angles, reflections trapped in broken glass that wasn’t really there.“Velmira.”Her lips curved in a half-smile, voice dripping with mockery and allure. “You still remember me. I thought maybe you’d forgotten. You seem to forget things easily these days… like your humanity.”Rhok exhaled, letting the words wash over him. “Humanity? I burne
Chapter 193. Sky Weeps Ash.
The day began as nothing more than a quiet wander.The fields outside the ruins stretched wide, dotted with tall grass swaying in the wind. Veyra walked beside me, carrying a basket she had stolen from a village some miles back. She claimed it was for berries, though most of what she’d picked so far had already ended up in her mouth. She hummed as she walked, and for a moment it almost felt like peace.But peace never lasted long with me.The wind shifted. Clouds, heavy and low, began to roll across the sky. The sun dimmed, and in its place came something wrong, a glow like a furnace door cracked open far above. I stopped moving. The air tasted of smoke, dry and metallic.Then the first flakes began to fall.Ash.At first Veyra thought it was snow, lifting her hand up and laughing. “It’s summer, Rhok. How could it snow...” Her voice broke when the gray smear melted against her palm, leaving streaks like charred dust.She looked at me, fear crawling into her eyes. “This isn’t normal.”
Chapter 192: Black Tongue’s Assault.
The forest was quiet that night. Too quiet. Rhok had grown used to silence, but this one felt sharpened. It wasn’t the silence of peace, it was the silence of teeth waiting to sink. He felt it before he saw them. A shift in the shadows, a faint smell of metal and oil, and then the flicker of torchlight behind trees that should have been swallowed by darkness.The Black Tongue.He knew the name. They weren’t just mercenaries. They were hunters. Not the kind that chased beasts, but the kind that tracked men who shouldn’t be caught. The kind who took gold not just for blood but for pride.Ten thousand gold. That was the bounty on his head. Rhok didn’t need anyone to tell him. Only a price that high could make them crawl out of whatever hole they had been nesting in.They came slow, deliberate, dressed in black leathers stitched with runes, faces painted with streaks of ash. Their weapons gleamed, not with iron, but something worse. Forged silver mixed with obsidian, laced with runic scri
Chapter 191. River of Glass.
The land twisted again, as if the underworld wanted to test how far Rhok’s endurance could stretch before it snapped. His instincts had guided him well enough so far, through the ash valleys, through the cursed wind fields, through the ruins where even shadows bled but what lay before him now was something else entirely.The sound came first. Not a roar like water rushing, not even the hiss of sand, but a grinding, splintering murmur, like glass breaking forever without pause. When he finally reached the ridge and looked down, he saw it: a river. Except it wasn’t water. It was jagged shards of crystal, a torrent of broken edges flowing endlessly from one end of the chasm to the other.Each shard caught the pale underworld light and threw it back in a thousand fractured rays. They weren’t just moving, they were alive, slicing even the air itself as they scraped by. The wind above the current split and bled with hair-thin scars that healed instantly, leaving the air quivering. Anything
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