Novel & Cerita Helm Of Winterhold

They could take over the continent in a heartbeat. But if we could stop them… “We have to take out Helena,” I whispered as we shambled through the darkness. “If she falls, they’ll surrender.” “And then what?” Damon’s usual charm was nowhere to be found, replaced by something bitter and tired. “March on the so-called ‘Winter King’ next? He’s probably got ten times the soldiers and weapons compared to what we just witnessed.” Damon was probably right. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit it out loud.

“Summon River Kedalf, Oshea’s ambassador. Bring him here—now.” The guard dropped into a swift bow, helm glinting, and hurried out through a side door. Winter ascended the dais to a high-backed throne, its iron arms cold beneath his gloved hands, settling with a predator’s grace. August handed him a parchment scroll, its wax seal broken. As Winter unrolled it, tallying Oshea’s meager offerings, his jaw tightened, gray eyes blazing with barely leashed fury for the ambassador who would soon face his wrath .

He was the only one in the room, since Kael had ordered the other three members to wipe out the rest of the bandit hideouts near the capital. The lit chandeliers, together with the blazing woods in the fireplace, had made the chamber warmer … but just too bright for Kael’s eyes. He unequipped his golden armor and helm, leaving him in his white, winter garment. He fixed his black hair backwards and then went beside Tristan. It was midday. The view of the Upper Ring down towards the Lower Ring could be seen clearly from their perspective. Kael gazed at the snow fall in the entire kingdom capital, filling up the white roofs of the buildings and houses.