Crown Of Blood And Ruin นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Unlike the Crimson Vow, this ritual was spoken in the common tongue so that every person present could understand its meaning. “The Blood Crown bears witness to the truth of rulers. Let falsehood fall away. Let hidden hearts be revealed. Let the throne belong only to one who stands without deceit before the ancient covenant.” As the final words echoed through the chamber, the crimson light surrounding the crown lifted into the air. It flowed like liquid fire before gathering above the center of the hall, where it slowly formed a great circle of glowing runes. A gentle force filled the room. No one felt threatened. Instead, it was as though the hall itself had begun listening.

A fresh sentence wrote itself across the center of a blank page, each letter forming in thick Blood Feather ink. When one daughter wounds the other beneath crown challenge, the child shall hear the blood and command the weaker crown. The bell tower went silent. Otsana’s blade lowered. I felt Rudina’s crown tighten against my head, as if the silver branches understood the danger before my mind finished reading. Conri stepped forward slowly, his eyes moving from the book to my sister and then to me. “If either of you spills the other’s blood, the child gains command over the wounded one,” he said.

The sound dropped me to one knee. My hands flew to my head. Cassian’s blood, the Crown whispered. The Heart is open. Cassian staggered back, one hand pressed to his bleeding arm. The corpse crawled through the broken shield. Slowly now. Enjoying it. Its crown was not metal. It was fused bone, black thorns grown from its skull, dripping with shadow. Silver roots twisted around its ribs like veins. Beneath them, something moved in its chest, red and wet, beating where a heart should have been.

The commotion in the crowd was reaching a fever pitch. Some were even gearing up to storm the stage to stop me when suddenly, the banquet hall doors slammed open. The screech of brakes violently cut through the downpour. It was not just one car that had arrived, but an entire motorcade of six black armored Hummers that crashed right through the glass walls of the banquet hall, sending shards flying everywhere. The car doors swung open in unison, and a stream of figures in black poured into the banquet hall.

Behind him stood hundreds of fully armed guards in black armor. On their banners was a symbol that struck fear across the entire continent. The Greedwolf Royals from the Northern Realm. The altar fell into deathly silence. Even the blade in Silas's hand slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground. "Th-the Greedwolf King…" One elder dropped to his knees, trembling. "It's the ruler of the Northern Realm, Alex Cruz!" My brother, Alex, looked coldly at the nearly suffocating Ronan in his grasp, his voice like judgment from hell itself.

Even distant, their connection hummed when emotions ran high. "You saw the crown?" Lioren asked, his voice tight. "Yes," she confirmed. "Do you know what it means?" He nodded slowly, turning a page in a crumbling volume. "There are records... older than our packs, older than the Moon's favor. Of beings who ruled before wolves walked the land. The cracked crown is their symbol. Not royalty—conquest. They were kings of ruin." Veyra stiffened. "And one of them is... tied to me?"

But it was the note that drove the air from my lungs—handwritten in elegant script that somehow made its contents more obscene: *The abominations you carry will never wear these crowns. Their mixed blood will never contaminate the throne. Consider these toys a kindness—a preview rather than the reality that awaits if you continue this perversion of nature. There are many of us, watching, waiting. The Pure Blood Coalition cleanses what is impure. Your daughters will never draw breath in this kingdom.*

“He… he rallied Akira. They’ve got proof—your paper. They know about the crown.” My heart stumbles, the crown’s power spiking, pain shooting through my head. Raymond, that weak, stubborn person, still fighting, still tied to Perez. Their bond—it’s not just living. It’s daring me. I laugh, cold, the storm roaring louder. “Let them come,” I say, turning to the platform, carving another rune, blood dripping. “This ends now.” The shade-storm swells, shadows tearing through the vault, cracking the ceiling. Dust falls, bones rattling. I feel their link, faint, through my blood-ink, like a thread I can snap. I raise my hands, the crown shining, and whisper, “Break.”

It collects. Names. Blood. Souls. And in exchange, it grants silence. I gave it mine. If you are reading this, it means the silence has ended. And you—my flame, my reflection—must decide: Will you become the Crown? Or will you break it?

Alien. The ebony crown glowed violently, feeding off the triumphant roar till it shattered, shards raining down. Emily staggered, shielded by Alexander and Caelen. The shattered piece radiated shadow runes in the stone. --- Candles in altars guttered. The courtyard’s celebratory tone collapsed as fear rippled outward. The warlord’s men lowered weapons, horror wide. The Fireborn shrank back as the blood moon light dimmed abruptly. A distant howl rose. From the fractured ground, tendrils of black energy writhed absorbing the broken crown shards, feeding on ancient grudges. Emily realized: they’d been baited. The warlord did not wish to be vanquished but to trap her heart.