Todos os capítulos de THE SILVER LINING: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

In Brunschière, things were not much better. The dark magic that had been brewing throughout the Citadel was extending its tendrils even here. The air had thickened and seemed heavy, similar to the time before the plague's initial grim wave. The inhabitants hushed in the streets in fear, and the air swelled with a crushing sense of foreboding.Krishna and Ignatius were busy preparing for the worst. They'd experienced the first foreboding signs of the plague again, a creeping, ill presence—something old and loathsome was creeping back into the world. The beasts that had once spewed forth from the darkness now stirs again, their monstrous shapes contorting in the shadows.The news arrived with a sense of urgency that could not be denied. A scout, battered and worn out, stumbled into the courtyard of Brunschière's principal fortress, pleading for air. His garments were rent, his eyes frantic with fear."My Lady! My Lord! It's happening again. The plague—it's returned," the scout wailed,

Miyal's vision returned, his mind shattering the clouds of control. The chilly sweat that had covered his skin now started to cool, his chest heaving with drawn-out breaths. The chains shone brighter with each beat of his heart, their magic binding him to the Citadel itself, to the land which was his heritage.But Vosvak wasn't done yet.The dark form recoiled momentarily, then came forward once more, like a snake striking from the darkness. A brutal laugh burst from the depth of his mind, shaking all of the bones in his body. The world around him grew dark again as the full weight of Vosvak's strength bore upon his will.You fool." Vosvak sneered, the words dripping with venom. "You really think this will suffice? You can't stop me. You can't kill me. I'm immortal. I was born of nothing. You.you are nothing in comparison to what I am.Miyal's body shook, his fingers gripping the chains as if they were his only hope. The world around him shuddered, the floor cracking open beneath him.

The rupture of the ward cleft further, a dark seam cutting across the golden pattern. The atmosphere of Brunschière trembled with it. Sparks detonated like mortal stars, showering on the cobblestones in front of the walls. The townspeople down below screamed, scrambling into shelters as the plague-beasts beyond attacked more strenuously, their claws ripping against the barrier with added ferocity.Krishna's arms trembled, veins burning silver under her skin as she added more of the memory of the moon to the sigils. Her throat ached with each syllable of the ancient incantation. The fissure still widened, thin spindly shadows like claws probing for an opening. Ignatius's voice bellowed over the destruction. "It's splitting too quickly! We can't close this with brute force!""Then we use will!" Krishna cried, her face twisted with effort. "Don't let it spread!"The earth convulsed. A mage stumbled backward, blood flowing from his nose before he crumpled unconscious. The others wavered,

The torches flickered in the great hall of Brunschière, casting sharp shadows on the walls of stone. It was filled with the odor of burned incense and sweat, dragged inside with the mages who had struggled to maintain the ward all night long.The long oak table in the center of the chamber was already filled: city elders, guild captains, scholars, and war-leaders, their faces etched with lines of worry and exhaustion.At the front sat Ignatius, his black hair still wet with blood and sweat from the wall. Next to him, Krishna clung wearily to the carved arm of her chair, her silver eyes still weakly shining, though clouded with fatigue. Her very presence made the council hush: to some, she was a savior; to others, a stranger too near the moon.The whispers dissolved into loud voices almost immediately.“The ward nearly failed!” Elder Marrick barked, slamming a palm onto the table. His beard bristled with rage. “We were a heartbeat away from annihilation, and we’re expected to trust tha

Golden light blazed once more, incinerating Vosvak's whisper into nothingness.Miyal's chest strained as if he had ripped the heart out of a god. The chains branded his skin, smoke rising from his charred wrists. Still, he stood upright, shaking, his breathing harsh.In the emptiness around him, silence erupted. No whisper. No shadow. But only the ebbing whisper of the villagers' chant that still echoed in his marrow—Together. Together.Miyal shut his eyes, allowing rhythm to calm him. "You won't have me," he breathed, his voice low but unyielding. "You won't have them."The chamber walls trembled, cracks of the pale light creeping like veins over the black stone. For a moment, the Citadel itself appeared to shrink from him—as if the fortress recognized power not its own.Then—soft footsteps."Miyal!"Kaelen's own voice, tight but full of need, cut through the fog. The door burst open, and the younger fighter stumbled in, golden runes flashing along his arms where he had battled throu