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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 · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
54 Chs

Assault on the Supreme Dungeon

Andre felt the refreshing mountain breeze, filled with the aroma of pine and wet soil, hitting their face while they rode. The first burst of adrenaline had faded away, giving way to a lingering muscle pain and deep fatigue. Still, a feeling of excitement remained, creating a silent connection between him and the other survivors.

They traveled through an empty town, the skeletal remnants of structures serving as a dark reminder of the Vor'talon's ruthlessness.

The vacant openings of windows gazed at them like disapproving eyes, while the remains of broken doors dangled loosely from their hinges. If any townspeople remained, they had wisely opted to stay concealed. Andre sympathized with them, feeling a pang of empathy as their lives were disturbed and their world was flipped.

They kept moving forward, the steady clomping of hooves on the compacted ground being the only noise disrupting the quiet. As they turned the corner, a massive building came into view on the horizon, its shadowy outline making the surrounding area seem small by comparison. The Supreme Dungeon.

It resembled a fortress made from one gigantic black stone instead of a typical dungeon. Sharp black spires of obsidian reached for the sky, their peaks covered in swirling mist. Enormous chains, as wide as Andre's arm, twisted around the building, appearing to support the entire structure. A stifling atmosphere enveloped the area, a profound quietness that appeared to engulf every noise.

Andre pulled back on the reins of his horse, feeling a sudden sense of unease coming over him. That was the end. The enemy's core. This is where their families, their leaders, were imprisoned.

Corvus got off his horse, his emerald Mana Arc glowing slightly as night descended. The rest of the Initiates did the same, with an expression of seriousness and determination on their faces. Corvus observed them all, looking at each person one by one.

"We are on the verge of war,"he boomed, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "Beyond these walls lie not just our enemies, but the hope for Decaoria's future. The Duke of Ingle, the Duchess of Nayland, and countless others are imprisoned within. We fight not just for glory, but for freedom, for family, for the very future of our world!"

He paused, his gaze locking onto Andre's. "Fear is natural," he continued, his voice softer now, "but we must not succumb to it. We are the 10th Legion, the embodiment of hope in this decaying world. Fight with courage, fight with honor, and fight for a future where Decaoria can rise again!"

A loud cheer rose from the gathered Initiates, rough in tone but brimming with unwavering resolve. With his voice joining the chorus, Andre lifted his fist in the air. He still felt fear, but it was overshadowed by a strong sense of purpose.

Corvus lifted his hand, causing the emerald light to shine brightly. He yelled, "To Arms!" "In the name of Decaoria!"

With a loud battle cry, they raced towards the Supreme Dungeon, growing more determined with each heartbeat.

The earth shook under the horses' hooves as the 10th Legion galloped towards the Supreme Dungeon. The atmosphere buzzed with a palpable intensity, a combination of dread and justified anger. Andre tightened his grip on Voidbane, finding comfort in the sweat-covered leather. That was the end. The moment of no turning back.

Right before they reached the enormous obsidian walls, a large chasm stretched out in front of them - a swirling black moat filled with a foul and decaying stench. Andre let out a loud yell from his throat and prodded his horse to move ahead. Feeling the urgency, the creature leaped high into the air, flying gracefully over the foul water in an elegant curve.

Others quickly followed with loud splashes, some landing smoothly while others fell into the dark depths with cries of desperation. Andre felt a rush of adrenaline as he landed roughly on the other side of his horse.

At the base of the massive gate, two individuals wearing shiny silver armor suddenly appeared, their visors mirroring the fading daylight. These guards were anything but ordinary. They glided with skilled elegance, their weapons shining with a lethal vow.

Marcus, a force of punches and rage, collided with the initial knight with a loud, bone-crushing bang. The figure in silver armor was briefly shocked as they stumbled, but quickly recovered and struck back with a powerful swing of their broadsword. Marcus narrowly dodged the blade, hearing it zoom past his ear with a lethal buzz.

Res, a calm and unyielding barrier of green and metal, faced off against the second knight. Sparks flew while she defended against his attacks, her axe moving quickly and with deadly accuracy. The courtyard reverberated with the sound of metal clashing, contrasting the increasing disorder nearby.

Andre drew Voidbane, feeling its familiar heaviness keeping him steady in the chaos. He ran at the last knight, his sword making a lethal sound in the air.

Res fought against the second knight. As they fought, she skillfully dodged his attacks with her twin daggers, creating sparks with each clash. The courtyard reverberated with the sound of metal clanging, adding to the increasing chaos in the area.

He ran towards the last knight, his sword making a lethal melody in the atmosphere. The conflict was like a musical composition of metal, a deadly performance where every action could lead to destruction.

Out of nowhere, a flurry of arrows poured down from the buildings on either side of the gate. One flew by next to Andre's ear, the breeze from its movement causing a sharp sensation on his cheek. He responded on instinct, lifting his shield to deflect another attack. It collided with the metal with a nauseating thud, almost causing him to lose his balance.

"Archers! Take cover!" Corvus' voice boomed above the din. His emerald Mana Arc pulsed brightly, summoning a shimmering barrier that deflected a barrage of arrows.

10th Legion archers, who were concealed among the soldiers, stood up from their positions. Their bows quickly released a barrage of arrows towards the enemy fortifications. One after another, the men in the fortress walls fell down, quiet.

The courtyard turned into a chaotic scene of metal and shrieks. The guards that were left in the dungeon, no longer shocked, resisted fiercely like animals trapped in a corner. Andre battled with primal anger, his actions driven by the urgent pleas of his allies and the intense longing to free the prisoners trapped in this hell hole of a stronghold.

However, the sheer quantity of guards was simply too much to handle. As Andre began to weaken, a harsh voice broke through the noise.

"Split up!" Corvus roared, his voice hoarse but unwavering. "Half of you, hold the line here! The rest, with me! We find the prisoners!"

The remaining 10th legion Legionnaires were in unanimous agreement. By making one last coordinated effort, they pushed the remaining guards towards the gate, leading to a brief pause in the battle.

Andre gazed at Res, their eyes connecting in a wordless mutual comprehension. They wouldn't be holding the line today. They were going in. A brief nod, a mutual look of serious resolve, and they started moving, trailing Corvus and hundreds of others towards the wide entrance of the dungeon.

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