All Chapters of Sacrifice Of The Heart: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

The sun had yet to rise when they reached the mouth of the forgotten passage—a jagged, rune-cracked staircase descending beneath the roots of the Obsidian Mountains. The air was thick with magic, the kind that pulsed beneath your skin and whispered madness in your ear. Elara felt it the moment they crossed the threshold.“This was built by the First Blood,” Dain murmured, running his fingers along the stone etched with forgotten sigils. “The original rulers—before the kingdom, before the laws.”“Before the prophecy,” Vesper added, his eyes narrowed, calculating. “Which means what’s hidden down there isn’t just powerful—it’s older than all of us.”Kael had said nothing for the past hour. He didn’t trust any of them—not Dain with his convenient knowledge, not Vesper with his secrets, and lately, not even himself.The path narrowed as they descended, their torches casting twitching shadows on the walls. Elara walked at the front, not because they let her, but because she had to. The pull

The sky over the capital cracked open in a blaze of crimson light as Elara stepped through the shattered gates of the kingdom she once called home.Her gown—no longer royal silk but a cascade of molten black and gold—brushed the broken stone beneath her feet. Her presence made the guards drop to their knees without command. Not from loyalty—but awe. Fear. Reverence.She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.The winds that carried her were laced with new power—something ancient and volatile, something the old gods once feared.Behind her, Vesper rode with blood on his collar and fury in his eyes. Kael followed, silent and watchful, while Dain flanked the opposite side of the gate, tension knotting his jaw as the city stirred like a beast waking from a curse.Whispers spread like fire.“She’s returned.”“The dead prophecy walks.”“The heir is no longer just royal… she’s divine.”In the royal court, the High Council gathered in haste, old men clutching their relics, murmuring prayers that he

The halls of Blackspire were quiet, too quiet.Elara walked them alone, the weight of Vesper’s sacrifice pressing like stone against her spine. He was alive, yes—but not whole. He hadn’t spoken since that night. Hadn’t moved on his own. The vibrant, terrifying man who once ruled shadows and secrets was now… a shell.He sat in silence at the window of the east tower, every day, at the same hour. Eyes open. But vacant.As though the part of him that burned for vengeance, for her, had been stripped out and cast into the abyss.“Any change?” Kael asked gently, stepping into the room behind her.She shook her head. “Nothing.”Kael exhaled, frustration and grief warring in his expression. “You know what he did, don’t you?”“He gave his soul.”Kael nodded. “To the old gods. The silent ones.”A chill passed through her. “That kind of magic… it doesn’t give back.”“No. But it leaves a door.” Kael’s eyes burned with something fierce now. “We just have to find it.”Dain appeared in the doorway,

Smoke coiled through the shattered chamber, dust thick in the air. Silence ruled—until a gasp tore through it.Elara pushed herself up from the blood-slicked floor, her hands trembling. The crown was gone. In its place, only ashes shimmered, suspended like stars in the air around her. Her magic no longer surged wildly—it pulsed steadily, quietly, as if it had found peace.Kael was the first to reach her, a smear of blood down one cheek, panic in his eyes. “Elara—Elara, say something.”“I’m here,” she whispered. “It’s done.”Vesper stood further back, silent, unreadable. The red light had burned away something in him too—his coat hung half-open, his shirt stained from a wound on his side, but his eyes were locked on her. Not with possession. Not with vengeance. But awe.“You broke it,” he said quietly. “You did what no king, no sorcerer, no bloodline could. You destroyed fate itself.”“No,” Elara replied, rising to her feet. “I chose my fate.”She turned toward the spiral stairway, and

The temple doors slammed shut behind Elara with a bone-shaking finality.The scent of ancient magic thickened in her lungs—earth, blood, ash. Elira walked ahead of her, steps light as if this ruinous place had always belonged to her.And maybe it had.Torches burst to life on either side of the carved stone corridor. They didn’t burn with fire—but with the eerie silver-blue light of corrupted magic. The walls whispered with forgotten voices. Elara’s pulse beat louder with every step she took.“You don’t have to be afraid,” Elira said without turning. “This place recognizes you. It remembers your blood.”“I’m not afraid,” Elara lied.A smile flickered across Elira’s lips. “Good. You’ll need that bravery soon.”They entered the sanctum—a vast chamber beneath the earth. At its center stood a throne, jagged and unfinished, carved from obsidian and bone. Symbols pulsed across the floor, reacting to Elara’s presence.The moment she stepped past the threshold, the throne awakened.It tremble