บททั้งหมดของ Selene the Silver Luna : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

​The sharp, biting chill of the northern crags slowly gave way to the heavy, mist-laden air of the central valleys.​For three days, the small vanguard rode hard through the ancient river paths, bypassing the main royal roads where Lord Cassian’s scouts were bound to be watching. Selene kept her dark cloak pulled tight against the damp river wind, her eyes trained on the horizons ahead. Beside her, Kael rode in steady, watchful silence, his gaze constantly sweeping the thick treeline bordering the rushing waters of the Serpent River.​Behind them trailed two dozen of the Frost-Tooth Clan’s sharpest trackers and a squad of Ash-Ridge’s elite shadow-riders. They traveled light, carrying only their weapons, emergency rations, and the quiet, heavy knowledge of what lay ahead.​"The border watchpost sits just past the bend," Captain Vane reported, reining his mount in alongside Kael. Mist curled around the horse's muzzle against the damp air. "The Eastern Assembly keeps a heavy garrison on

​The Great Hall of the Eastern Assembly was an architectural marvel of polished marble, high domed ceilings, and massive glass arches overlooking the central valley. Yet today, the vast hall felt cold, heavy, and suffocating.​Dozens of regional lords, merchant guildmasters, and clan leaders sat along the elevated stone tiers, whispering nervously among themselves. Below them, standing at the central rostrum, was Lord Cassian. He wore dark velvet robes lined with silver fur, his chest decorated with the official seals of the High Council. Behind him stood ranks of armored mercenaries, their gloved hands resting on the pommels of their broadswords.​"Citizens and noble lords of the Riverlands," Cassian’s voice boomed through the chamber, echoing off the marble pillars. "We stand on the precipice of absolute ruin! The traitor Kael and the rogue wolf Selene have shattered the ancient peace of the mountain. They destroyed the northern garrison, corrupted the sacred stone of Iron Pass, and

​The air inside the granite chamber turned instantly foul, thick with the stench of burning sulfur and cold, dead iron. The three silver-masked Executioners descended the spiral stairs in unnatural, synchronized silence, their tattered ash-grey cloaks floating around them like tattered shrouds. ​Kael didn't hesitate. He stepped smoothly in front of Selene, broadsword raised, his hazel eyes locking onto the lead shadow assassin. ​"Vane, get Vivienne behind the Spire," Kael ordered, his voice dropping into that quiet, absolute command that demanded instant obedience. "Hold the rear exit." ​"High Alpha, we fight with you," Vane said, his dark bow drawn taut, an iron-tipped arrow trained directly on the chest of the second Executioner. ​"No," Kael said, not taking his eyes off the approaching figures. "Their blades are star-iron infused with council poison. One scratch will tear a regular warrior apart. Protect the archivist." ​The lead Executioner tilted its masked head, a low, wet

​The narrow mountain trail carved through the jagged teeth of the High Ridge was slick with black ice and choked by a low, clinging fog. Above them, the sky stretched out like a sheet of bruised slate, cold and utterly devoid of stars. ​Selene pulled the reins of her mount tight, her gaze scanning the towering basalt cliffs that squeezed the pass into a tight, deadly bottleneck. Her left arm hummed with an erratic, restless heat. The closer they rode to the High Capital, the more the silver and violet crest beneath her skin seemed to strain against her bone, pulling toward the south like a needle toward a magnetic pole. ​Kael brought his horse alongside hers, his hazel eyes dark and hyper-vigilant as he watched the treeline above the ridge. His broadsword rested unsheathed across his saddlehorn, the steel reflecting the faint, ethereal glow radiating from Selene’s wrist. ​"The wind has dropped," Kael noted softly, his voice barely a murmur above the crunch of horseshoe iron on froz

The dark, cold quartz of the Covenant Road dissolved once more as the echo of that raspy whisper pulled Selene back into the memory of the stone. The air surrounding her shifted instantly from the damp chill of the mountain to the crisp, pure wind of the High Capital as it had been a thousand years ago. Soaring spires of white marble and polished star-iron reached toward an unblemished sky, untainted by the smog or iron-suppression seals of the modern era. Standing at the apex of the central terrace, before the original Central Spire, stood the First Luna. Her silver robes are billowed in the mountain breeze, her face pale with an immense, agonizing gravity. Beside her stood the First Guardian. This time, the vision held steady long enough for Selene to see the details of his presence. His armor of dark, midnight-blue steel caught the sunlight, decorated with intricate silver scrollwork. He towered over the First Luna, radiating an absolute, terrifying aura of raw strength. ​