Harry Potter And The Kings Requiem の小説・ストーリー

He told me about my hunt for this woman, and for so long, it has been lost on me who she could be. “Who is she?” I ask slowly, already feeling like my world is collapsing with just the look on Grey's face. “She’s the King’s mother," he breathes.

“When the Veil falls. When the Forgotten Ones rise. And when the world needs a ruler who is neither human… nor cursed… but something in between.” He stepped closer. “Aria is not your enemy,She is your last hope to awaken the queen as well.” “And you?” she whispered. “What are you?” Harry smiled—sadly, almost kindly. “I am the shadow that prepares the throne.” Then he turned, vanishing into the dark. The headmistress sat alone, the chalice almost slipped from her hands. And for the first time, she wondered—who was she really fighting for? For three days nobody saw or heard from Harry.

Three boys appeared, holding a bow. Mercies!! Her heart screamed out. The one in the middle - wearing a robe. It was the King!! Instantly, the pains from the arrow seemed to affect her so much, she lost consiousness and passed out.

"None of you should kill Derek.. I need to give him the honour of dying in my hands.." He turned back to look at Sodom. " When you return, I'd Grant you your wish before I kill him." Sodom sighed quietly as the five wolves took him and walked away. ** Harry sat quietly in his house close to one of the tables as he listened to Derek narrate again his new plan to get to the king with this new Aquaintance that he had made. He listened attentively as Derek spoke passionately about the things that he had planned to tell the king in order to release some of his men to go with him. But all Harry could feel for him was pity. He wish there was a way that he could make him see that the king would neve

"We have traversed vast distances in search of your wisdom, venerable wizard. The king languishes, tormented by a venom that eludes even our most skilled healers. We implore you, with all our hearts, to come forth and aid him. Employ your unparalleled power and boundless knowledge to preserve his life. The consequences of the king's demise would reverberate throughout our entire realm." The wizard's eyes flickered with empathy, a potent blend of compassion and unyielding resolve. "Fear not, for naught shall befall your king. I will attend to him. Lead the way," their voice exuded a profound sense of duty. "Time is a precious commodity, slipping through our fingers. Every precious second coun

Draco meticulously adds the blood into the contents of the pot. The other two kings and Elon's mother gather a few steps from the altar. "Your majesty, how shall we know when the magic is most potent?" King Andriel questions. "This stuff is otherworldly, thus you all need to follow my instructions to the letter. Otherwise we all might be swallowed up by the unknown," Draco warns. "Why do you need to understand anything here, Andriel?" Elon questions suspiciously. "You're getting any mischievous thoughts to take advantage of this ritual? Remember whose right it is to become the King of kings."

I tried to come up with a logical explanation. Makaria sighed. "It's almost over, the last phase will be longer than any phase, buckle up. It might get a little too much for you." She muttered and turned her attention back on the flowers until their love making session finally got over and it was time for us to move to phase tenth aka the last phase. For some reason, I was very nervous when the garden began to melt around us and we found ourselves in the Kastron's kingdom main hall. It was filled with the higher ups.

Her face became paler with each page. "It's..." "What?" "A spellbook." I frowned. "So?" She looked up at me. "This isn't just any spellbook, It's a grimoire. The Dark Grimoire of the First Veilborn Queen." I stared at her. "The one who sealed the Demon King?" Hansel nodded. "I think so." She flipped through more pages. "There are sealing spells, Curses, Blood rituals..." She suddenly stopped. "And?" Her voice dropped. "A ritual to completely destroy the King's soul."

He slumped against the central dais, his eyes struggling to stay focused on Scarlett. "I told you..." he wheezed, a dark smirk touching his blood-stained lips. "No one touches... my Queen." Scarlett rushed to him, her hands glowing with healing light. But as she touched his wound, a hidden compartment in the dais clicked open. Inside sat a scroll made of human skin and silver thread—the Final Testament of the First King.

born of devil's spite, a monster wearing the skin of a beast. Time fractured again, the scene dissolving into a blur of seasons. A year slipped by in ghostly montage: Damitri wasting away on his throne, skin pallid and stretched over bones, coughing black ichor into velvet cushions, his once-mighty frame reduced to a husk by the curse's insidious creep. Whispers filled the castle—poison? Sorcery? None dared speak of pacts or devils. Then, one storm-lashed night, the king's final rattle echoed through the halls, his eyes glazing over as shadows claimed him. The crown passed uneasily, but grief festered deeper.