Dark magic seeped in from every direction, thick and corrosive, eating away at Maelda’s spirit realm. The radiance of the place dimmed as the shadows spread, tendrils curling like claws. Maelda’s shimmering form began to flicker and corrode.Ron’s heart leapt into his throat. “What’s happening?”Maelda no longer had time to explain. She moved closer, her hands trembling as she pressed the warm, pulsing heart into his palms. Prince Ron looked down and nearly recoiled when he felt the Dark Lord’s still beating heart on his palms. It was soft, somewhat squishy and wet.“You have to take it, Ron,” Maelda said firmly. “The Dark Lord cannot rise. You have to protect it.”His eyes widened in horror. So this was what she meant when she said he had to take her place in the beginning. He shook his head, pushing the heart back to her. “This…no. No I can't do this. How do you expect me to protect his heart? I don't even have any powers.”“You can.” Maelda insisted. “Dark magic has already weakene
Light exploded from his hand, blasting Vathar across the grove. The Dark Lord hit a tree hard enough to splinter it, coughing blood. Before he could rise, Eron was there again, raining blows on his face. Each one was faster, sharper, and more merciless than the last. The sound of fists striking flesh was wet and sickening, with Vathar’s cries growing weaker with every strike. He just laid there, and gave up. If death was what awaited him, then he'd just take it. It was better than living in the world, knowing Eron never truly loved him. Finally, Eron seized Vathar by the throat and lifted him into the air like a rag doll, sneering at his swollen face. “Tsk, this is boring.” Eron let him drop and Vathar’s body fell to the floor with a wet thud, blood spilling from his face and onto the grass, unconscious.With a snap of his fingers, two gods appeared kneeling by his side. He glanced at the one on his left, a female with golden hair. “How is he doing, Nemyra?” Nemyra, the Spirit of
Ahead, Vathar stood alone beside a small sapling. His dark hair tousled, red eyes dimmed but alive. He looked thinner and so pale that one could see the green veins under his skin clearly. He was dressed in flowing black and white robes, his gaze fixed towards the sky, as if earnestly waiting for something to happen and just then, the wind shifted and Eron descended from the sky. Prince Ron stared at him, surprised. Wasn't he locked in the Tower of Oblivion? How did he escape?Eron strolled toward Vathar, looking gloomy. He was dressed in robes of rich green, his piercing blue eyes glaring at Vathar but Vathar didn’t seem to notice. He was only happy to see Eron. His crimson eyes lit up instantly, his face breaking into a familiar, unguarded smile. Like that of a child seeing a person he trusts wholeheartedly. “Eron!” he breathed, relief flooding his veins. In a burst of joy, he ran forward and threw his arms around him, clinging tightly, burying his face in the god’s neck. For one
Massive burning blades screamed through the air, slicing downward with enough force to split mountains. Jagged laughing shards of glasslike energy spun wildly, waves of black fog, thorned vines as thick as a man’s arm, daggers dripping with poison, long obsidian spears, and arrows of moonlight that turned anything they touched to stone, all rained down like a deadly storm. Every strike came at once and the hall was soon turned into a storm of blinding light, fire, shadow, and steel.Zedekiel had no choice but to break off his attack on his father and concentrate on defending himself. But the attacks didn't touch only him. They battered Ron’s barrier as well. A thorned whip cracked against it, sending jagged ripples through the shield then massive spears slammed into it, making it weaker. Zedekiel’s heart hammered against his chest in fear. “Ron—!”He moved to go to him, but a fireball the size of a boulder roared toward his head. At the same time, half a dozen other attacks conver
“No,” Zedekiel replied, his tone suddenly hard as steel. He turned to face his father. “For eight years, eight years full years, they were together. And in that time, Eron stopped every disaster for the one he loves. He turned aside every single misfortune. No one—not even the demons—could guess the Dark Lord’s identity. They could have continued living peacefully and who knows? Maybe the Dark Lord would have lived and died as a normal human, never even knowing about his demonic side but someone just had to break the seal Eron placed upon him.”He let his gaze slowly sweep the chamber. “Someone powerful. Perhaps even among us, wanted the Dark Lord revealed. Someone who wanted chaos.”Gasps broke out like a wave through the hall. Murmurs rose, sharp and nervous, as suspicion spread from face to face. So someone ruined Eron’s relationship with the Dark Lord on purpose?Zedekiel’s violet eyes, cold and unblinking, settled finally, on Dareth.The moment Zedekiel’s gaze locked on him, Dare
Ron walked slowly toward the scale. With the chains, each step was extremely heavy. The clink of his chains was the only sound in the vast hall, sharp and cold as it echoed off the marble walls.To Zedekiel, each metallic note landed like a blade against the inside of his chest, each muted strike reverberating with pain he could not show. He kept his face neutral, unwilling to give everyone the satisfaction of seeing him break. Though, he badly wanted to ask, why? Why didn’t Ron tell him about everything? Why did he decide to do it all alone? But the words caught in his throat, strangled by the weight of the crown and the duty it demanded.Ron kept his head high. He had helped his friend fight for love. Where was the shame in that? If he was to go down for it, then he would go down with his head raised, not bowed. Even Zedekiel had once said that love was the purest thing in the world. Fighting for it should never be a crime. He reached the great golden scale and lifted his chained