All Chapters of The Dragon King's Forbidden Desire: Chapter 71 - Chapter 75

Dawn never truly came. The sky remained a dull gray, as though the sun itself struggled to pierce through the thick blanket of clouds. A faint violet hue lingered along the horizon, subtle yet unsettling. Soldiers moved quietly across the ridge, fatigue etched into their faces. The repeated skirmishes had drained them, but the anticipation of something worse kept them alert. Elara had not slept. She stood near the ridge’s highest point, her gaze fixed on the distant plains. The fracture in the sky from the night before replayed in her thoughts. Her magic remained restless, like a tide refusing to settle. “You’re feeling it again,” Verath said, approaching her. “Yes.” She didn’t look at him. “Stronger now.” The ground beneath her boots felt hollow. Verath crouched, pressing his palm against the stone. His expression darkened. “Something is moving below us.” Kael joined them quickly. “Scouts report no enemy movement on the surface.” “Because they aren’t coming from the surface,

The forest no longer felt like a forest. As Ashenrealm’s forces advanced toward the scorched villages, the treeline ahead grew denser, darker, and unnaturally still. No birds called. No wind moved the leaves. Even the sound of marching boots seemed to be swallowed before it could echo. Elara slowed slightly. “This isn’t natural,” she murmured. Verath rode beside her, eyes narrowed. “It’s been altered.” Kael raised a hand, signaling the army to halt. “Scouts ahead.” Two riders moved into the forest and vanished between the trees. Minutes passed. No return. A cold unease spread through the ranks. “They should have signaled by now,” Kael said. Verath’s voice dropped. “We don’t wait.” He raised his hand. “Advance carefully. Formation V.” The army moved in a tighter formation, shields raised. Elara stepped forward, her magic already building beneath her skin, cautious and alert. The forest swallowed them quickly, branches forming a thick canopy overhead. The deep

The crack spread. A thin line at first, then a jagged seam racing across the surface of the cocoon. Light bled through it, not bright, but sharp, like something cutting through darkness from the inside out. Elara stepped back, pulse hammering. The chamber responded. Roots along the walls tightened, their faint glow intensifying as though feeding whatever struggled to emerge. The spiral symbols carved into them pulsed in unison, faster now like a heartbeat accelerating toward something inevitable. “This wasn’t supposed to happen yet,” Elara said under her breath. The shadowed figure tilted its head. “It was always going to happen.” “You said I was meant to witness,” she shot back. “Not trigger it.” “You misunderstand your role.” The cocoon split further. A low sound echoed from within, deep and resonant, almost like a breath drawn after centuries of silence. Elara’s magic surged in response, flaring brighter than before. This time, she didn’t fight it. She let it expand, for