Semua Bab The Howling Throne: Bab 101 - Bab 110

The battlefield lay in ruins. Smoke curled into the night sky, choking out the stars. The fortress, once a symbol of defiance, had crumbled under Sienna’s relentless siege. The echoes of steel on steel had faded, leaving only the groans of the dying and the crackle of fire devouring the wreckage. But Elior stood unmoving, his sword still clenched in his trembling hand, staring at the spot where Sienna had vanished into the shadows.She had escaped.A sharp breath tore from his lungs. He had come so close. He had wounded her, had seen the flicker of doubt in her eyes. And yet, she had still slipped through his fingers. He wanted to curse, to scream, but there was no time.Footsteps pounded against the shattered stone. Rael emerged from the smoke, his blade slick with blood. His eyes darted around the field before settling on Elior. “Where is she?”Elior forced himself to look away from the empty space. “Gone.”Myrra staggered toward them, her face streaked with sweat and dirt. “The eas

The dawn broke over the horizon, casting a dim light over the assembled forces. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and smoke, remnants of past battles. Elior stood at the crest of the hill, his gaze fixed on the distant outline of the stronghold that would soon become the center of their resistance.The warriors gathered in the valley below were a testament to the fractured remnants of a kingdom once whole. There were veterans, scarred and weary, who had fought against Sienna’s conquest from the beginning. There were fresh recruits, young and desperate, willing to risk everything for a chance at freedom. And then there were the nobles, those who had once sat in comfort, now stripped of their luxuries, driven to reclaim what had been lost.Rael stood beside Elior, his face unreadable. The weight of his lineage pressed heavily on his shoulders, but he bore it without complaint. To the soldiers, he was no longer the wandering hunter they had once known, he was their king, the

The ruins of the stronghold still smoldered, casting long shadows across the battlefield as dawn broke over the horizon. Ash and dust swirled in the wind, mingling with the scent of blood and charred stone. Elior stood amidst the wreckage, his sword still in hand, his breath ragged. The battle was over. Sienna was gone.Or so they thought.Rael’s grip on his sword tightened as he gazed at the collapsed fortress. The weight of what they had done settled upon his shoulders, but something felt… off. He turned to Elior, who stood beside him, watching the horizon where the first hints of morning light crept through the thinning storm clouds.“We need to be sure,” Rael murmured. “Sienna”“She’s dead.” Elior’s voice was firm, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “She has to be.”The silence that followed was uneasy, broken only by the distant cries of retreating enemy forces. Myrra and Bram approached, both weary but still alert. Myrra wiped the blood from her dagger on her torn cloak, her

The morning sky stretched in hues of pale gold and soft lavender as Elior and his companions set out from the city gates. Their departure was swift, silent. No fanfare accompanied them, only the weight of what lay ahead. They rode with urgency, the shadow of Sienna’s return pressing upon them like an ill omen.Rael led at the front, his gaze locked ahead, jaw clenched in quiet determination. Myrra followed close, her fingers still smudged with ink from nights spent poring over ancient texts. Bram rode with a steady grip on his axe, his ever-present tension making it clear that he expected trouble at every turn. And Elior, he rode at the center, silent, lost in the gravity of what they were about to face. The Howling Throne had been their greatest enemy, or so they had thought. Now they knew better. Sienna was not the true threat. She was merely a vessel."The Celestial Ruins lie beyond the Ashen Valley," Myrra said, her voice breaking the quiet. "The First King wrote of a temple burie

The night was thick with tension as Elior and his group pressed forward, the echoes of their battle with the Forgotten Hand still fresh in their minds. The coordinates Myrra had deciphered led them deeper into the Celestial Ruins, an expanse of shattered spires and silent tombs bathed in the ghostly glow of the twin moons.Their mounts kicked up clouds of dust as they rode, their urgency spurred by the growing unease settling over the land. The Final Seal was weakening, and with each passing moment, the balance of power shifted ever closer to catastrophe.Myrra, poring over the ancient texts even as they rode, spoke without looking up. “The First King was never meant to wield the power alone. The inscriptions suggest that something or someone helped him bind Erythos. But if that being still exists, why has it remained silent for so long?”Rael scanned the jagged skyline ahead, his grip tightening on the reins. “Maybe it was bound, just like Erythos. Or maybe… it didn’t want to be foun