Novel & Cerita Eldritch Terrors Mythology

The hall finally grew quiet. Then something new hit me through the bond. Not from Drax. Not from the pack. Something wider. Deeper. Like the land itself had woken. Nythera pushed forward sharp and sudden. Images flooded me. Ancient stones far beyond the border territories. Runes glowing blood-red instead of silver. A shadow moving under the ground, thick and ancient. Voices whispering old warnings. The bloodline had been buried for a reason. Not just fear of power. Fear of what it would wake when it finally returned.

A while later the rabbit came back, the young chief caught it and it scattered as mana and dissolved into his palm. The young chief signaled others to charge forward, they entered Dracendale very cautiously taking cover behind the trees and bushes. The Dracendale was a very terrifying valley because of its shape and the beings that reside in the valley. It had two entrances alining with each other nearly 180 degrees, it was literally O shaped and was surrounded by mountains. In the center of the valley, there was an enormous lake. In numerous legends, people said that the water contained pure mana, the lake was upon a mana pit. But no one dared to take ownership of the lake, because it was t

For the night is dark and full of terrors," Sryrn and her queen's men replie d. Moriah peeled off the glove and let it fall to the ground, ready to turn into the Legend. The gods in the pyre were scarcely recognizable anymore. The head fell off the smith with a puff of ash and embers. Myra sang in the tongue of Waterfall, her voice rising and falling like the tides of the sea. Ezekiel untied his singed leather cape and listened in silence. Thrust in the ground, it still glowed ruddy hot, but the flames that clung to the sword were dwindling and dying.

The priest, who now had been killed, foresaw the tragedy to come and had enclosed their world, making it disappear from the face of the earth, yet in existence. When this had been done and another vision instructed that the people would voice out complaints to move to the new world, the other druids, came together and created the ‘Mylanthrope’- a misty cloud that takes one to the outer world under his wish. Their long-time counterparts heard of so and by the help of the demon, enclosed their own world, preparing ardently for Aberdeen so as to strike and lock them forever in the ancient land and make them slaves. They prepared, with snatches of upsetting Aberdeen. And on many occasions, the p

Goliath's voice sounded cold and a bit harsh, but the critters only stared at him. "Pay attention to what he is going to do, then replicate it," David ordered his minions, who promptly nodded and started to pay attention to Goliath's actions. "First, we'll start with a history lesson. Abyssal druids believe in the will of Nature. That all plants and animals have a soul on their own. But we also believe that the Will of the Abyss is greater than Nature's and that it should bend to fulfill the Abyss' and our wishes." Goliath nodded and put the crystal against the log. "Oh, mighty abyss, lend me your aid, bend the will of nature to my desire!"

It was. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking. Time bent here. He remembered the shoreline—remembered running, the salt wind burning his lungs, the chanting of the cult at his heels. He remembered Marla’s eyes, hollow and shining like mirrors. And then the water had claimed him. Not drowning. Not quite. It had welcomed him. And then he’d seen it. Varethkaal. But not as Clara or Emily had known it. No, what Drift saw was only a sliver of the thing’s truest form. Something older, vast, and split across realms. Something beneath even the dark—the living will of a god that had not yet finished being born.

From the depths of the portal, nightmarish creatures began to emerge—twisted forms of beasts that seemed to be born from the darkest nightmares. “Behold!” Drax’s voice boomed, resonating with a sinister glee. “You think you can stand against me? I will unleash a horde that will drown you in despair!” Xienma’s heart sank as she took in the grotesque figures that crawled forth—monsters with jagged teeth, eyes that glimmered like shards of broken glass, and bodies that seemed to distort and shift. The very essence of fear radiated from them, and she felt the weight of dread settle over her like a heavy cloak.

At those words, a heavier, darker silence fell. Among the council of elders, a few of the oldest, hair white as ancient snow, gasped in open horror. Their faces, so recently twisted in anger, now drained into pure, unfiltered terror, as if they had just heard a forbidden demon’s name spoken aloud. “Impossible…” one of them whispered, his wrinkled hand trembling violently. “That… that’s only a myth…” Rayden felt a cold far sharper than the ice around him sink into his bones. He didn’t know what the Primordial Tomb was, but the elders’ reaction was enough. This was taboo and forbidden legend.

It would be foolish to risk him having a clue and shutting up. “We have always been there. Ever since good has existed, there has also been evil. Edimmu, Jiang Shi, Ghoul. We were called Draugr in the Nordic countries. They have called us different things through time, but we are the same and with the sole purpose of creating fear in people so that they appreciate the good and correct. Some of us, however, have been just a bit theatrical, Lamia and Lillith, for example”. "What has that got to do with the pact ?"

Uncountable body parts and inner organs and red-black blood soaked most of the ground as far as the eyes could see. “How many creatures of darkness have you left? Nyarlathotep? You should know that I’m a god of matter and I could birth my lovely dark young infinitely no matter how many you have killed.” The lady in red smiles creepily at the butler in front of her while raising her hand. A dark creature with many black tentacles slowly gives birth from the pile of corpses behind her. Its hideous feature and many mouths bleated out a bleat like a young goat calling its mother.