Todos os capítulos de THE SILVER LINING: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

The Citadel, mighty fortress that it once was, teetered on the brink of collapse. Its grand halls, once full of life, now rang with emptiness, a ghostly quiet shrouding the realm. The walls, which had seen battles countless and spoken the secrets of ages, now quaked with terror. The folk its citizens, its soldiers, and scholars were gone. Vanished into thin air. The roads, which were previously filled with the buzz of everyday existence, were now vacant, ghosted by the remnants of what had been lost.In the very center of the Citadel, a handful of survivors, the few who had escaped the atrocities that had devoured the land, stood in the main square. Their faces were etched with terror, their eyes ranging wildly with bewilderment. They had no explanations, only questions. Nobody knew where the rest had disappeared. Nobody knew what had become of the core of their kingdom."Where is Miyal?" one of the men asked, his voice raw from too many days of searching. His eyes were wild, scanning

The atmosphere was heavy with expectation, every breath Miyal breathed scorching like flame in his chest. His frame shook, frail from the shadows he had let fill him, but his determination his cold determination remained unshaken. In his head, there was not space for uncertainty. There was not a second opportunity. This was it. The climax. The reckoning he had been searching for so long.Miyal had dwelled in the shadow of his own handiwork, tormented by the fruit of his ambition. He had let Perfera, his very own blood, rise out of the plague that he had contributed to inflicting on the world. And she had done something no one could have predicted she had become the bringer of pain, the vessel of destruction that had destroyed the Citadel, just as he had once dreaded. His daughter had taken the same dark road that he had once treaded.But that was then. This was now.Vosvak Spade Il'Sharak was no longer a man. He was a force of life and destruction, a monster dressed in the shadows of

The Citadel's darkness throbbed in sync with Miyal's mind, a relentless, oppressive weight upon him. The war was far from won. The triumph he had battled for was nothing more than a brief instant, a gasp in the center of a tempest yet to be unleashed.Vosvak was not dead. The dark fury that had taken him had been preserved, bubbling under the surface of the world like an undead volcano threatening to erupt. And Miyal knew that he could never relax. The darkness would reappear. It always did.With hammer in his chest, his heart being a hammer, he summoned his men those who had battled with him in the trenches, those who had witnessed the horror that Vosvak had left behind. They had lived through battles, seen atrocities that would shatter weaker men and yet none of them could possibly comprehend the extent of what they were up against.Gather the pack," ordered Miyal, his voice gruff like rocks. "Tell them. Tell them throughout every corner of the world. Let them hear that Vosvak Spade

Inside the throne room, the high council huddled in uncomfortable silence, their faces gloomy, their voices subdued. They had witnessed the demise of their mighty leader first. Miyal's rule, a beacon of hope once, had been tainted by the dark magic, and now he was nothing more than a puppet, a vessel for the same evil that had destroyed Perfera Spade.A senior adviser, his face white and sweating, stood before the council, trembling as he brought them the latest word. His voice trembled.“The Citadel is falling, Lord Minister,” he said, his eyes darting nervously around the room. “We’ve lost contact with the outer walls. The soldiers sent to secure the perimeter report that the land surrounding the Citadel is rotting. The very earth itself is decaying. We’ve seen shadows unnatural shadows creeping along the walls.”One of the councillors, his hands shaking, rose. "And what about Miyal? Has anyone seen him? Is he actually changed?The advisor hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper

The door to Miyal's chambers slowly swung open, the merest creak cutting through the thick, gagging tension. His friend, a fellow by the name of Kaelen, stepped inside the room, his features fixed in a stern expression of worry. The air was filled with raw magic, foul and gagging, and he knew immediately something was amiss."My Alpha, what is it?" Kaelen's voice was low, full of incredulity as he regarded Miyal. The firm figure now slumped against the ground, pale face, sweat-dotted forehead, and his usual strength and composure replaced with an unmistakable air of pain.Miyal's body was shaking with the effort, every muscle in his frame contorted in an attempt to resist the force that was trying to break him. His bloodshot, wide eyes hovered on the edge of rage and terror as he stared up at Kaelen. His palms were pressed over his temples, as if to struggle against the darkness shredding his mind.Don't come near me," Miyal snarled, his anger trembling his voice. "Get the artifact th