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The Ghost of Arcana

He opened his eyes, a newfound determination burning within them. He gripped the staff tightly, channeling all his hopes and aspirations into the pulsing blue orb. Then, with a voice that echoed through the arena and resonated deep within himself, Elian declared, "Summon the Dawn of a New Age!" ----------------------------------------- Elian had a troubled past. At 14 during a tournament he won the greatest prize ever that turned his life upside down. Under the influence of his demonic alter ego he makes a wish to bring the Dawn of a new age, an eclipse that changed his life. Forced to go into hiding and changing his name to Andre he has fully gone dark. Now Andre a seemingly poor farm boy with a troubled past joins the millitary and when he is drafted to the Jade Kingdom, he finds his old friends. He soon finds himself embroiled in a brutal, year-long war. Ten warring kingdoms against an ancient necromancer, Lord Vrn, each kingdom struggling with their own internal strife – tyranny, espionage and even a whole people– are further tormented by the rise of the "Vor'talons." These monstrous entities, whispers say, are physical manifestations of each kingdom's deepest societal ills. Andre is haunted by a secret pact with a mysterious power; himself or rather a demonic alter ego. He soon finds the enigmatic Grimoire of Shadows and he becomes the infamous Lord of Dark arts Malachar Nightweave. The war culminates in a bloody siege, leaving Andre/Malachar and his allies victorious but deeply scarred. He's awarded as a hero, but the praise feels hollow. A Year of violence have taken their toll, and the peace feels fragile. A late-night assassination attempt, possibly by radical nationalists or a rival general, shatters the illusion of security. Driven by paranoia and a newfound sense of cynicism, Andre hatches a ruthless plan. He manipulates the political landscape, exploiting the fractured relationships between the kingdoms. A "peace summit" is arranged, a carefully orchestrated trap. When the leaders convene, a massacre ensues. Andre, wielding his dark magic with chilling efficiency, eliminates every single ruler, including his old friend, the current king of the Jade Kingdom, who had initially vouched for him. This act of brutal pragmatism plunges the already unstable region into further chaos. Power vacuums erupt, rebellions ignite, and warlords rise from the ashes. Andre, now known only as Malachar, emerges as a shadowy figure, consolidating his power through a combination of intimidation, deceit, and displays of terrifying magical prowess. Malachar's reign is not one of glorious conquest. It's a brutal period of constant skirmishes, economic collapse, and societal breakdown. He remains haunted by his past, his nights filled with nightmares of his fallen friend and the sacrifices he made. Whispers of a rebellion begin to stir, but Malachar remains vigilant, his grip on power seemingly absolute. This gritty tale delves into the psychological toll of war, the seductive allure of power, and the murky world of Decaoria. It explores the consequences of unchecked ambition and shows the world in a true spectrum where heroes can be villains and Villains can be heroes. ----------------------------------------- Note this book is 16+ 2nd WSA entry Update schedule will be 1 chapter a day depending on the amount of words I write. Please Drop your power stones and give me support as I will really appreciate it. Link to my Instagram https://www.instagram.com/officialzenbk?igsh=MXNsMDgwZnUwZzMyaA==

Mubarak_Zen · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
59 Chs

The Call to Arms

Three consecutive days had merged together, forming a dull routine of training drills and lectures on spellcasting. Andre had mastered the fundamentals of Cero magic, with his hand movements and recitations being awkward yet effective. He was finding it difficult to completely master his Black Mana Arc, the shadow flames wavering with a disconcerting awareness. However, he felt a newfound sense of direction within himself. He was gaining knowledge, becoming more powerful, getting ready for the upcoming battle with the Vor'talon's.

He was unexpectedly disrupted from his concentrated rehearsal by a sudden disturbance in the camp. Excited and flushed, Marcus entered their tent. He announced, out of breath, "There is a meeting with Corvus. Everyone has to be present. It's described as an urgent matter."

Andre made eye contact with Res, feeling a knot of anxiety constricting in his stomach. Breaking news from Corvus typically indicated impending issues. The soldiers hurriedly followed Marcus while whispering quietly, increasing the tension.

Upon their arrival, the war room was filled with anxious excitement. As Corvus stood up from his seat, people's faces, marked with concern and strong resolve, shifted their focus towards him, noticing the emerald Mana Arc glowing on his chest.

"Come together, comrades," his typically deep voice had a sudden sharpness. "We have bad news. Decaoria... has fallen.

The room was filled with a collective gasp, followed by a silence that left everyone stunned. Decaoria, was their continent. Their last hope was the Silvercrest Dominion who had been holding on against the Vor'talon of Supremacy for 3 months but sadly they lost. Now the entire continent was under the grasp of the Vor'talon's.

Corvus struck his fist against the table, causing a thunderous echo. "However, we will not waver! We refuse to give up!" The room was filled with a wave of rebelliousness.

He continued, with his voice returning to its calm tone, "The most impenetrable dungeon in the whole Decaoria has turned into a 'safe haven' for numerous leaders from our continent. The Duke of Ingle and the Duchess of Nyland."

Andre felt a flicker of hope. Could this be a turning point?

"I propose an audacious move," Corvus's eyes glittered with a dangerous glint. "An offensive. We strike at the Supreme Dungeon, a declaration of war against the Vor'talon and their puppets!"

A murmur rippled through the crowd. An attack on the Supreme Dungeon was a risky proposition, a near-suicidal mission. But it was also a chance to strike back, to liberate their leaders, and to cripple the Vor'talon's hold on their continent.

"This is a gamble," Corvus acknowledged, his voice hard. "But the inevitable outcome will be war. It's only a question of when."

He scanned the faces before him, his gaze lingering on each one. "Who stands with me? Who is willing to fight, not just for themselves, but for the future of our continent?"

Silence descended, heavy with the weight of the decision. Andre felt his heart hammering against his ribs. Fear gnawed at him, but a stronger emotion surged – a burning desire to see his homeland free, to avenge his father.

He glanced at Res, her expression resolute, her jaw clenched tight. Then, to Marcus, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination. A slow smile spread across Andre's face.

He raised his hand, the gesture echoing through the still room. Then another hand joined his, and another. Res. Marcus. One by one, others followed suit, a silent vow forming in the air.

Anya, her face etched with worry, caught Andre's eye. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "It's too dangerous. There are other ways."

Andre met her gaze, his voice firm. "This is the fastest way, Anya. We have to fight for our home. For everyone we've lost."

Corvus looked at them, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "Eight moons," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of their decision. "Eight moons to prepare. Then, we march on the Supreme Dungeon."

The room erupted in a cacophony of shouts, a mixture of fear and defiance. The weight of their mission settled upon them, but so did a newfound resolve. They were going to war.

Andre emerged from the war council chamber, the grim weight of their mission pressing down on him. He pushed past the milling crowd of Initiates, their faces a mixture of awe and trepidation, his gaze fixed on the distant training grounds. He needed to move, to burn off the nervous energy coursing through him.

A hand gripped his arm, sending a jolt of surprise through him. He whirled around to find Anya, her face etched with a desperate plea.

"Andre, wait," she pleaded, her voice tight with emotion. "You can't go. It's too dangerous."

His gaze remained fixed on her, feeling his defiance growing stronger in his heart with each passing moment. "I must, Anya. This goes beyond just the rebellion."

He observed as her eyes filled with tears, with a single one rolling down her cheek, sparkling in the light. What caused it was the vulnerability in her gaze, the unfiltered fear that reflected his own.

"Father," he exclaimed, the word getting stuck in his throat. "He is in the Supreme Dungeon. And also... also is Cole.

"He could still be alive, Anya," Andre pressed, his voice gaining strength.

"Wouldn't you want to see him again? Wouldn't you want to see Kael?"

The mention of her husband, her anchor in this storm, ripped a sob from her lips. Her grip on his arm tightened, her fingers digging into his flesh.

"Yes," she rasped, her voice thick with emotion. "Gods, yes, I would. But I can't lose you too, Andre. I can't bear that."

He locked eyes with her, his own filling with a blend of sorrow and resolve. "Then allow me to continue, Mother. Allow me to struggle for an opportunity to retrieve them. In order to have an opportunity to reunite our family."

Anya's shoulders drooped as the fight slowly left her eyes. She knew that he was correct. The glimmer of hope he sparked inside her, no matter how delicate, was a crucial lifeline she couldn't overlook. She let go of his arm with a trembling breath.

"Just... proceed with caution," she muttered, barely able to be heard. "Andre, please assure me that you will take care."

He clasped her hand tightly, feeling overwhelmed by the love and fear he had for this woman who served as both his mother and friend. "I swear," he declared, his voice filled with intense feeling. "I will return. For you, for Dad, for Cole... for all of us together."

Into battle we go so please Like it ? Add to library! and please Drop your power stones.

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