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Shadowed Throne: The Arcane Empire

In a world where the Arcanists hide their supernatural abilities from normal people, a crisis emerges when the fragments of the broken World Altar start attracting the souls of the dead who escaped from Hell. Kael, a young Arcanist, finds himself in the middle of this chaos as people who were supposed to be dead start coming back to life. As the situation worsens, the Arcanists must come together to protect their world and prevent it from descending into chaos. But with betrayal and schemes among their own, can they overcome their internal struggles and work together to save their world from a fate worse than death? ---- 'A gemstone unparalleled, with forces unnamed, It regulates worlds both recent and trained. Maintaining equilibrium throughout all that is, The World Altar is the epitome of this. A gem imbued with purpose and chronal aptitude, Guiding realms to a state of fortitude. An emblem of might, resplendent and awe-inspiring, The World Altar's tale is one of timeless desiring.' -Jīnzi

Jinzi · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
8 Chs

Prologue: Kael Hashirae

For over two decades, I've been the captain of this ship – a local cargo transporter, or so it appears.

In reality, we operate in the shadows, moving illegal goods in the dead of night. Livestock, food, drugs – you name it, we've transported it.

It's dirty work, but it pays the bills. However, these kinds of jobs don't come around often – maybe three times a year if we're lucky.

Last week, a new job request came in. It was different from the others – the client demanded the utmost discretion and trustworthiness from our crew.

They warned us not to disrespect the cargo, as if, inside it were some kind of deity.

The transaction was to be completely anonymous, and the client had some unusual demands regarding the goods.

As I read over the details, I couldn't shake the feeling that this job was going to be more dangerous than anything we'd done before.

Without hesitation, I accepted the job. The payoff was more than I could earn in ten runs, and only a handful of trusted staff were chosen to handle the 400-meter cargo with its single pure silver container.

The container itself was a marvel of modern engineering, featuring advanced interlocking systems with biometric security measures, but the contents remained shrouded in mystery.

As we sailed on through rough seas on the second day, over five hundred miles away from the coast of Morocco, the storm clouds gathered ominously overhead.

The wind howled and the waves crashed against the ship's hull with a fierce intensity, threatening to tear us apart at any moment. But we pressed on, determined to make our delivery to Washington, just seventy miles away.

As the storm raged around us, I couldn't help but wonder what was inside that silver container, and whether it was worth risking our lives to transport it to its unknown destination.

A crackling wireless telegraph suddenly interrupted the stormy silence. The message that followed was chilling:

"Drop the container, Hashirae's on--" but it was cut off before we could get any more information.

There was no way we could risk dropping the container without proper verification from the owner of the goods. And then, everything went wrong.

Suddenly, all of our equipment malfunctioned. The compass spun wildly, and the magnetic field and all wavelengths were disrupted.

The violent thunderclaps and stormy atmosphere only added to the eerie feeling that something was seriously wrong.

As I stepped onto the deck to investigate, I saw four armed choppers circling the ship, their wings slicing through the air like blades.

Without warning, soldiers in black uniforms rappelled down from the helicopters, each one wielding an automated rifle.

Ignoring me completely, the soldiers marched straight towards the container, the very one I had been entrusted to transport.

It was clear that we were in deep trouble, and the stakes were higher than I ever could have imagined.

"I assure you, there must be some kind of misunderstanding," I began, attempting to reason with the armed soldiers who had descended upon our ship.

But before I could even finish my sentence, one of them leapt from the chopper without any support and landed gracefully on the deck, sending shockwaves rippling through the ship.

"Silence!" he barked, his voice carrying an air of authority that left no room for argument.

Dressed entirely in black, from his chained hoodie down to his jeans and shoes, he exuded a sense of danger and mystery that left me feeling uneasy.

As he strode past me, his eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made my blood run cold. It was clear that this was a man who didn't tolerate resistance or disobedience, and I knew better than to test his patience.

As the soldiers crowded around the silver container, their weapons trained on its surface, the leader stepped forward with an air of menacing authority.

With a swift motion, he drew two gleaming daggers from the sheaths on his back and pointed them directly at the container's sealed door.

"Open it," he commanded, his voice cold and unyielding.

Two of his subordinates quickly approached the container, placing small, glowing chips on the corners of the door.

With a piercing high-pitched sound, the chips exploded, sending shockwaves through the cargo hold and causing the container's massive gate to slowly creak open.

As the door groaned on its hinges, a chill descended over the group of soldiers and crew members gathered on the deck.

A sense of dread and foreboding filled the air, and I couldn't help but feel a growing sense of fear and apprehension.

Inside the container, a series of metallic chains clanged against each other, as though something heavy and dangerous was moving around. The soldiers tensed up, their faces etched with fear despite their best efforts to remain composed.

With every heavy footstep that echoed from within the container, the atmosphere grew more intense and the sense of impending danger more palpable.

The leader's sudden change in demeanour caught everyone off guard. With his daggers still floating around him, he joined his hands together in a respectful gesture and bowed his head in a martial greeting pose.

Tension filled the air as the leader held his position, his daggers hovering in the space around him like deadly, shimmering orbs.

The soldiers stood frozen, their weapons at the ready, waiting for any sign of aggression.

Finally, the leader straightened up, his expression unreadable. For a moment, no one moved or spoke; the only sound was the faint creaking of the container's open door.

"Behold the being of unmatched might,

Whose power brings eternal night,

The one with strength inconceivable,

Whose path diverges from the feeble,

The successor of gods, unfathomable,

The slayer of divinity, Kael Hashirae,

Hailed as the one with power unbeatable".

The leader's words hung in the air like a death sentence, and before anyone could react, his daggers blurred in motion, slicing through the air like lightning bolts.

Heads rolled off bodies, spurting blood in violent fountains that painted the deck in a macabre shade of red.

The sound of metal clashing against flesh echoed through the stormy sky, a symphony of death that would be remembered by all who witnessed it.

In a matter of seconds, the once well-armed soldiers were nothing more than lifeless corpses lying in a growing pool of their own blood.

As the man emerged from the container, the air seemed to grow thick with an inexplicable energy. The crew members fell to the ground, overcome by the sheer power emanating from the man before them.

He looked around at his surroundings, taking in the chaos he had wrought, before turning to face the leader of the soldiers. Their eyes locked, and for a moment the air was still.

"Welcome back, Young Master," the leader said with a grin.

The man's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions, and he seemed to take a moment to process the situation. Then, he spoke again, his voice still hoarse but with a note of determination.

"The smell of fresh air seems like a paradoxical whim of imagination to me," he said, staring up into the sky.

"Bon Voyage." As he spoke the last words, the choppers in the air exploded in a deafening roar, the sound mingling with the thunderclaps of the storm.

The man stood his ground, chains bound to him but unable to contain his power. It was clear to everyone present that they were in the presence of someone far beyond mortal comprehension.

He stood there, his laughter echoing across the deck like the cackle of a madman. "Ha ha ha," he chuckled, as the chains binding him suddenly lit up in a dark blue flame, melting away into nothingness.

The flame danced across his skin, leaving no marks or burns, but a newfound sense of power radiated from him.

The wind picked up, whistling through the air and sending his unruly hair flying in every direction.

The clouds above roiled and churned as if reflecting the chaos that had erupted on the ship.

He turned to the leader of the supposed soldiers and asked, "Is the old man alive or did he leave me all alone?"

The leader bowed his head apologetically and replied, "Master passed away two years ago."

He let out a sigh before asking, "How do we go back, Viper? You killed all the 'escorts'."

Viper replied nonchalantly, "They were members of 'Sheildwall' and their only purpose was to detain you again and keep surveillance on you twenty-four-seven. As for the transport, you don't have to worry."

At those words, a deep rumble echoed through the air and the sea, and a submarine emerged from the water.

The sound of the horn was deafening as the massive vessel, at least twenty times bigger than their cargo ship, revealed itself.

I couldn't believe my eyes. The longest submarine in the world only measured up to 200 meters, but this behemoth was at least eight thousand meters long.

"Shall we?" Viper asked.

"Of course," he replied. He then turned to me and said, "In fact, make sure he gets a bonus for his troubles".

I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as I watched the dagger floating around Viper disappear.

It was the last thing I saw before everything went black, plunging me into the darkness of the night.

As time stretched on, the passing time began to feel like years.

I slowly opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings with confusion.

Everything appeared to be in fine condition, yet the absence of the container and the sight of the sun already high in the sky left me perplexed.

Doubt crept into my mind as I muttered, "Was that just a dream?"

Love is a journey, and with you by my side,

Every step is worth taking.

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