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The final seal

Penulis: C.s miracle
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-06-07 17:56:04

The early light of dawn struck the Spire’s obsidian towers like a blade. Bain and his brothers gathered at the shattered western wall, where Petrov and Sokolov had already carved an entry with the Cinder Dagger’s fire. Now, a jagged breach yawned before them—leading down into the Spire’s core chamber.

“Keep your wards up,” Bain ordered, voice low and hard. “She’ll retaliate.”

Vulture sealed the breach’s edges with a ward line drawn in quicksilver ink. “Done. No more unwanted guests.”

Inside, the air was thick with hollow mist—every inhalation burning like cold steel. Flickering runes on the walls pulsed in response to the Heart of Thorns, still clenched in Elias’s hand.

“We cut the core’s lifeline here,” Elias said, pointing to a massive crystalline conduit—an artery of void-energy feeding the Spire. “I’ll channel the relic’s light to shatter it.”

Cassian, perched on a rubble-strewn ledge, nodded. “And I’ll reinforce him.” He clutched his warded crystal talisman.

Seraphina, Malthea, a
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  • The mafia’s captive    Afterlight

    Months had passed since the fall of Valeria and the obliteration of the Hollow King.The world, strangely, had not ended.Aragorn was crawling now—his tiny hands brushing ancient runes without flinching, his eyes a shade of luminous gold not found in any book. Sometimes, when he babbled, lights flickered. Sometimes, the shadows paused. Once, the television turned itself on and displayed nothing but static—and Cassian quietly unplugged it without a word, then hugged his brother close.No one said it aloud, but they all knew: Aragorn’s powers were not ordinary. Not even among the gifted. Neither were Elias’s or Cassian’s.And that terrified them just enough to keep them watchful.Bain returned to New York quietly, seamlessly reintegrating into the criminal underworld. With Viktor at his side, operations resumed like a well-oiled machine. Clubs reopened, smugglers rerouted, and debt collectors went back to breaking legs. It was comforting in its brutality—a violent normalcy that masked t

  • The mafia’s captive    Ritual of severance

    The wind howled through the narrow corridors of the Pyrenees mountains as the Thorned Circle arrived at the forgotten temple where it all began. Nestled within rock and bone, the entrance to the Veiled Mural pulsed like a sleeping heart—ancient, wrong, and waiting.Bain stood at the threshold, flanked by Petrov and Sokolov. Behind them, Vulture barked orders into his comms, securing every access point with both enchantments and trained Brotherhood operatives. The mafia moved like shadows—efficient, lethal, watching the perimeter.Cassie held Aragorn tightly, wrapped in woven silk threaded with sigils of protection. Elias stood beside her, eyes narrowed, while Cassian stared forward as if the mural were whispering directly into his soul.Seraphina’s voice was steady.“The temporary seal we placed before has thinned. Something’s been pushing against it from the inside.”Malthea added grimly,“If we don’t sever it now—utterly—it will open.”II. The DescentThe group descended into the mu

  • The mafia’s captive    Aragorn surge

    Two nights after Lysara’s visit, Seraphina and Malthea convened with her again, this time in the inner sanctum beneath the fortress. The runes glowed faintly, sensing the old blood magic that clung to Lysara’s skin.“You said you meant no harm,” Seraphina said carefully. “But you came here with half-truths.”Lysara’s eyes gleamed.“I told you what you needed to hear.”“You lied.”Malthea’s voice was colder.“You never wanted to warn us. You came to measure Aragorn. To measure him.”Lysara smiled thinly, unbothered.“His light stirs planes none of you can yet comprehend. The Verdant Watch waits. And we are not the only ones.”Then, without another word, she vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a faint scent of burned myrrh and decaying leaves.Seraphina’s hands curled into fists.“We have less time than we thought.”II. Aragorn’s SurgeThe fortress entered a state of heightened alert. The Brotherhood moved with precise discipline—spells were strengthened, mafia businesses ran sm

  • The mafia’s captive    The visitor

    The weeks that followed brought something unfamiliar: quiet.The Brotherhood’s businesses expanded. New York pulsed beneath their control, and across Europe and Asia, the families whispered once again of Bain and his Brotherhood—how they had crushed Valeria’s remnants and returned to power even stronger.But beneath the calm, small tremors flickered.Seraphina noticed first.Then Malthea.Subtle, almost imperceptible. A ripple in the Veil. A soft pulse of displaced air. A breath from something that should not exist.“It isn’t the Hollow King,” Malthea assured Bain one night in the war room. “But his death unbalanced other planes.”Seraphina nodded, tracing her fingers along the ironwood table inscribed with ancient runes.“We created a void. Something will try to fill it.”Bain’s jaw clenched.“We’ll deal with it—like we always do.”II. Family in NormalcyWhile the mages spoke of dimensional echoes, life inside the fortress carried on.Cassie tended to Aragorn, now six months old, his

  • The mafia’s captive    End or beginning

    New York City glittered beneath them as the private plane touched down. But to the Thorned Circle, this was no longer just their city — it was their sanctuary.The war was over.Valeria was gone.The Hollow King — sealed, banished, erased.What remained was the fragile breath after survival.The Brotherhood descended one by one: Bain leading, Cassie holding baby Aragorn against her chest, Elias gripping Cassie’s free hand, while Cassian — silent and sharp-eyed — walked beside his father.Behind them followed Petrov, Sokolov, and Vulture. Their suits pressed. Their weapons holstered. Mafia kings returning to their empire — but as something far more than crime lords now.“Feels… strange,” Vulture muttered as the cool night air wrapped around them.“Because we lived,” Bain said simply. “And most don’t.”⸻II. The World BeneathThe Brotherhood fortress had changed too. Ancient wards hummed quietly under the surface. Malthea and Seraphina’s enchantments laced the very walls with quiet prot

  • The mafia’s captive    Blood and war

    The black spire loomed ahead, pulsing with veins of living darkness. The Hollow Throne was no longer dormant — it breathed, trembled, and exhaled waves of distortion with every beat.Seraphina led them through a labyrinth of stone bridges that hung in mid-air, suspended by nothing. Each step was a challenge. The closer they moved, the thinner the boundary between their world and the Hollow King’s will.“This place bends reality itself,” Malthea whispered. “We won’t survive long inside.”“We don’t need long,” Bain said. “We need one clean strike.”Baby Aragorn, secured in Cassie’s arms, hummed softly. His glow pierced through the gloom like a sword of pure white flame, pushing back the waves of corruption threatening to swallow them.Even Vulture, hardened and cold, murmured, “That kid’s stronger than all of us.”Petrov smirked. “We’ll keep him alive. No matter what.”“And once again,” Sokolov grunted, checking his weapon, “I didn’t sign up for wizard wars.”“But you stayed,” Bain said

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