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Chapter Fifty-Two
Last Updated:
2026-01-16 01:45:41
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Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-Six
The strategy meeting ended the way so many had lately — not with certainty, but with resolve.Elora remained standing at the head of the central table as the final markers were gathered, her palms braced against the scarred wood while Declan rolled the map closed with deliberate care. Selene straightened from her seat, armor whispering softly as she moved, already recalculating troop movements in her mind. Corren leaned back with a tired stretch, rubbing at his jaw as if the tension there had finally begun to ache.“We’ll adjust the western approach once the Farisee scouts return,” Selene said, already turning toward the tent flap. “If the Umbra are moving faster than we expect, we need to be ahead of them.”“We always are,” Corren replied lightly, though the humor didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Or at least we pretend well enough that no one notices when we’re not.”Declan lingered as the others began to move, his gaze shifting to Elora. “You held the room,” he said quietly. “They trus
Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-Five
They did not come all at once.They came the way truth always did — unevenly, carried on tired feet and sharper resolve, in groups small enough to slip through danger but large enough to matter. The first arrived just after dawn, emerging from the forest in a loose formation that spoke of necessity rather than order: a Fenraen scout walking beside an Asterai shield-bearer, a Farisee archer flanked by a Terran mage whose hands still trembled with spent magic. Their armor bore no uniformity, their cloaks carried the marks of different lands and loyalties, but their eyes held the same hardened clarity — the look of people who had already lost something and refused to lose more.Elora stood at the edge of the clearing when they appeared, her presence rippling outward before anyone spoke her name. Conversations faltered. Movements slowed. Some bowed without thinking. Others pressed fists to hearts. A few simply stared, as though the prophecy they had whispered about in fear had stepped for
Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-Four
By the time the sun crested the trees, the land no longer resembled a simple clearing.Declan worked along the forest’s edge, shaping the earth where their side of the battlefield would stand. He did not touch the heart of the field — that space was left deliberately untouched, stretching wide and open beyond the treeline’s shadow. Flat enough for ranks of warriors to assemble. Broad enough to hold movement, magic, and war without constraint.Where he did work, the ground grew firm beneath his hands. Roots eased deeper into the soil, stones settling until the earth felt solid and reliable beneathfoot. The trees themselves leaned subtly inward, not crowding the space but offering shelter and vantage — a natural boundary that could hide movement, anchor defenses, and hold fast when lines broke.This was where they would begin.Briar chose their camp site with the same quiet intention. She positioned it near the treeline without letting it disappear into shadow, close enough for cover bu
Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-Three
The presence of the gods settled over the chamber like a second sky.Elora had faced bloodmages, beasts twisted by shadow, and rulers who mistook fear for strength, but none of that prepared her for this. The weight did not crush her; it pressed inward, steady and relentless, seeping into her bones and the places where instinct lived. Every breath felt measured, every thought briefly exposed. She locked her knees and lifted her chin anyway, refusing to let the pressure bend her, even as her pulse thundered in her ears.Behind them, the Concord Flame burned low and anchored, its light no longer reaching upward but sinking deep into the ancient stone, as though the temple itself had claimed it. The chamber felt smaller, closer, the world beyond its walls drawn back to give this moment room.Declan stood at Elora’s side, his shoulders squared, though the pull beneath his feet made his teeth ache. The land was awake in a way he had never felt before, every root and stone resonating with F
Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-Two
Three days passed in a quiet that felt deliberate, as though the world itself were holding its breath while they walked.The forest shifted gradually as they traveled deeper into Nethara’s heart, not with clear borders but with subtle interweaving — the broad, ancient trees of Finvarra’s domain giving way to silver-barked sentinels whose leaves caught light like cut crystal, their roots threading through soil rich with lifeflow. Moon-blooming flowers opened as dusk lingered longer than it should have, and vines traced with faint luminescence coiled around stone and trunk alike. It was not one forest, nor three, but something carefully balanced, magic and nature and strength layered so precisely it felt intentional. Elora sensed it everywhere — in the way the air pressed gently against her skin, in the way the ground seemed to steady beneath her feet — as though the land recognized her presence without yet daring to speak it aloud.When the trees finally parted, the temple revealed its
Crown of Betrayal Chapter Sixty-One
The drums began at dawn.They echoed through Ancnix in steady, ceremonial rhythm, deep and measured, reverberating through stone and timber alike, calling the city to witness what tradition demanded it witness. Banners unfurled from the battlements in crimson and iron gray, bearing the sigil of the crown now reforged, and the streets filled with people dressed in their finest leathers and silks, polished armor catching the pale morning light as if nothing in the world had shifted at all. The plaza before the throne hall was transformed—lanterns strung between columns, long tables already laid for the feast to come, braziers burning low with incense meant to honor Mahina and the line of kings before him. It was meant to be a day of unity, of reassurance, of strength restored after uncertainty. And for a few fragile hours, it almost succeeded.Gregory Forstfang stood upon the raised dais as the final rites were spoken, his posture flawless, his expression carved into something unreadabl
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