บททั้งหมดของ ALPHA GOD: บทที่ 151 - บทที่ 160

The horizon glowed with the first hints of dawn as Rayka stood at the crest of a ridge, surveying the battlefield below. The enemy stronghold, carved into the jagged mountainside, loomed ominously. It was a fortress of steel and stone, bristling with defenses and cloaked in a thick veil of intimidation. Every brick of that fortress symbolized the new faction’s hold over their world, and Rayka’s heart ached at the thought of the lives already lost to this escalating war.Sylvester stood beside her, his muscular frame radiating determination as he adjusted his weapons. “It’s a fortress,” he admitted, “but no fortress is impregnable. Today, we prove that.”Rayka nodded, the weight of leadership settling heavily on her shoulders. “This is it,” she said quietly. “Everything we’ve worked for has brought us to this moment. Are they ready?”Sylvester looked over the gathered forces. Pack members fro

The battle's aftermath left a silence that felt foreign, almost unnerving. Rayka stood atop a ridge overlooking the main settlement of their pack, the soft orange hues of dawn casting long shadows over the valley. For years, conflict had been her constant companion—each victory accompanied by loss, each step forward shadowed by doubt. Now, as the dust settled and the echoes of war faded, she realized that peace was an even more daunting challenge.The village below bore the scars of their struggles. Buildings stood in varying states of disrepair, some barely more than skeletons of wood and stone. People moved through the streets, their steps heavy with fatigue but underlined with determination. For every broken window, there was a group working to patch it. For every torn banner, there was someone sewing it anew.Sylvester joined her, his quiet presence a balm to her restless thoughts. "It’s a strange sight, isn’t it?" he murmured, his voice low as if unwilling to disturb the fragile s

The dawn broke over the forest, a hesitant light filtering through the trees as if wary of what it might find below. Rayka stood on the balcony of their stronghold, the cool morning breeze brushing her face. From her vantage point, she observed the daily bustle of the pack below. Yet, a gnawing unease had taken root in her heart, one that Sylvester had voiced just the night before.“You feel it too, don’t you?” Sylvester’s voice cut through the quiet. He approached from behind, his presence grounding yet tinged with the same worry that plagued her.“Yes,” Rayka admitted, her gaze fixed on the training grounds where warriors sparred. “Something’s not right. There’s a disconnect, a tension I can’t quite place.”Sylvester leaned against the railing, his sharp eyes scanning the scene. “We’ve been so focused on external threats, perhaps we’ve neglected what’s been festering within.”Their suspicions were confirmed later that day during a council meeting. The room was filled with voices, som

The air in the Moonshadow Pack’s territory carried a quiet peace that felt foreign after so much conflict. For the first time in years, Rayka allowed herself a moment to breathe, her shoulders no longer heavy with the constant weight of impending battles. Yet the scars of their struggles remained etched into the land, their people, and her heart.Sylvester leaned against the doorway of their shared quarters, the healing wound on his side a stark reminder of how close they had come to losing everything. His presence was a quiet reassurance, a steady force beside her as they faced this new chapter together.“Morning already?” he asked, his voice low but warm.Rayka nodded, glancing at the horizon where the sun rose, casting a golden hue over the dense forest. “A new day,” she murmured. “A new era.”Sylvester stepped closer, his hand brushing hers. “And what kind of leaders will we be in this era, Rayka?”“The kind who learn from the past but don’t let it define us,” she replied without

The forest was alive with the sounds of pack life as Rayka walked through the stronghold. Wolves bustled about, carrying supplies, sparring on the training grounds, or chatting in small groups. To the untrained eye, everything appeared harmonious, but Rayka’s instincts told her otherwise. There was a tension in the air, subtle yet unmistakable—a quiet unease rippling through her people.  Sylvester met her at the edge of the training field, his brow furrowed.  “Do you feel it too?” he asked without preamble.  Rayka nodded, her gaze sweeping over the busy grounds. “Something’s off. I’ve heard murmurs—discontent, whispers of doubt. It’s not open rebellion, but it’s there.”  Sylvester’s jaw tightened. “Any idea where it’s coming from?”  “Not yet,” Rayka admitted. “But I’m going to find out.”