The Grand hall
The grand hall echoed with the rustling of the king’s silver cape as he turned, his piercing gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles and guests. His voice, both regal and commanding, resonated throughout the chamber:
“Follow me.”
The siblings, Gustein, and a few of the high-ranking nobles obeyed, trailing after the king as his presence carved a path through the murmuring crowd. Whispers flared among the nobility, their voices barely contained in their gossip.
"How dare they walk beside His Majesty?" one noble muttered.
"To bring Earthers into our sacred halls," another hissed. "What madness is this?"
One nobleman, middle-aged by Elven standards, lingered silently as the group passed. His sharp eyes locked onto the siblings, and a faint smile curved his lips. His attention shifted to a rotund noblewoman standing nearby, equally middle-aged in appearance. Their gazes met, and with an almost imperceptible nod, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
The king, oblivious or indifferent to the whispers, led the group out of the hall. As the entourage exited, the man who had been observing the siblings slipped his hands behind his back. Pressing a hidden device strapped to his wrist, he whispered under his breath, "It begins."
---
Ascending the Castle
The group began climbing the spiraling staircase, its steps wide and gleaming with polished marble. The king’s commanding aura kept everyone silent, save for the faint echoes of their footsteps. His cape fluttered with each stride, and the nobles followed in respectful silence, their unease masked by formality.
Breaking the stillness, the princess turned to Ziraiah, her tone curious and soft:
“My grandfather told me stories about the Elvhein. Are those stories true?”
Ziraiah hesitated, her voice uncertain. “Stories? I… I’m not from here, so I don’t know them, Your Highness.”
The princess’s eyes gleamed with nostalgia. “As a child, my grandfather often read me bedtime stories of your kind. He spoke of warriors unmatched in battle, of minds that held the secrets of the world. Legends say your people created artifacts so powerful that the Unbound would kill to possess them. Even now, the remnants of what you left behind have plunged the world into chaos, as the Unbound scour the lands to claim your treasures.”
Intrigued, Ziraiah asked, “What sort of things did they leave behind?”
The princess smiled faintly, her gaze distant. “Artifacts. Treasures. Tools of unimaginable power.” She paused, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Things that could shape the fate of nations.”
Ziraiah glanced at the king ahead of them and lowered her voice further. “Is it safe for us to talk like this? Your father is kind of—”
“Scary?” The princess finished with a sly grin. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t mind.” She leaned closer. “So, what did the stone say?”
Ziraiah hesitated, glancing around nervously. “You don’t think I’m lying?”
The princess’s expression softened. “I’m just curious.”
Hesta’s quiet voice emerged from the shadows beside them, startling Ziraiah. “Yes. I’m curious too.”
Ziraiah turned to see Hesta walking beside her, her calm demeanor masking the intensity of her gaze. Valerius, who had been eavesdropping, pretended to inspect the staircase but listened intently.
---
The Queen’s Chamber
At last, they reached an ornate door inscribed with glowing runes. The king raised his hand, and the runes illuminated under his touch, unlocking the entrance with a soft hum. The door creaked open, revealing the queen’s chamber.
As they entered, the room was shrouded in an almost sacred silence. The Elven Queen lay upon an ornate bed, surrounded by attendants who diligently tended to her. Her once-radiant form was now frail and sunken, her skin a pallid gray, her muscles wasted away. Her condition was so dire that her bones protruded visibly beneath her skin.
Ziraiah gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Valerius, however, could not contain his thoughts:
“Goddamn, she’s ancient.”
The words slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. The princess’s face twisted in annoyance as she snapped, “That’s my mother.”
Realizing his blunder, Valerius paled and immediately began bowing repeatedly, his words tumbling over each other. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Ziraiah silently cursed him. “This idiot,” she thought. “How is he so stupid?”
Eryndor, standing behind them, sighed deeply, his refined features barely concealing his embarrassment.
From behind, the nobles began murmuring, their whispers growing louder.
“What did he say to the princess?”
“Did he harm her?”
“Guards, seize him!” one noble exclaimed, pointing at Valerius.
The guards stationed in the four corners of the room stepped forward, but before they could act, the princess raised a hand, her voice calm but firm. “It’s fine. Stay where you are.”
The king, observing the commotion, used thought transmission to communicate with his daughter:
“What transpired, Eli?”
Eli replied through thought, her tone measured. “It is nothing, Father. An unfortunate slip of the tongue.”
The king’s mental voice softened slightly. “Very well.”
Out loud, he addressed the room with a regal tone. “Leporid, I trust you will not disappoint me.”
---
The Healing Begins
The nobles whispered among themselves as Gustein stepped forward.
“What is this Leporid going to do?” one asked.
“The king didn’t tell us anything,” another grumbled.
“Does he not trust us?”
Gustein raised his hands over the queen’s frail body, his expression unreadable. Before he began, the king spoke again, his tone firm and elegant:
“Leporid, heed my words. I shall tolerate only two outcomes: either her condition remains unchanged, or it improves. Should she worsen under your care, you will understand the full extent of my wrath.”
Gustein grimaced, muttering to himself. “What the hell kind of disease is this? Isn’t she just… too old? Whatever. Let’s get this over with so I can leave this damned kingdom.”
He began channeling his Seed ability, a faint glow emanating from his hands. Slowly, the queen’s body began to rejuvenate. Her gray skin regained color, her sunken cheeks filled out, and her frail frame started to show signs of life.
The nobles gasped in awe.
“Who is this man?” one exclaimed.
“We tried every elixir and healing magic. How is he accomplishing this?”
Valerius, unimpressed, muttered, “I thought I’d see some glowing lights or something. Gustein’s Seed is boring.”
The princess turned to him, her tone sharp. “Seeds? Your companion has a Seed? I thought they were myths.”
Eryndor replied, his voice calm but tinged with intrigue. “It seems so. Gustein is proof of their existence.”
The princess’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “First, I meet Elvheins, then a Seed user, and now my mother is healed. This might be the best day of my life.”
Gustein lowered his hands, stepping back. “It’s done.”
The king approached the queen’s bed, kneeling beside her. His regal composure broke as he took her hand gently. “My love, can you hear me?”
The queen’s eyes fluttered open, her voice faint but filled with emotion. “Gozay?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Tears streamed down the king’s face. The princess ran to her mother’s side, throwing herself onto the bed and embracing her. “Mother!” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion.
Valerius watched the scene, murmuring, “I guess even he has a heart.”
Eryndor responded quietly, his tone thoughtful. “No matter how cruel a man may seem, his love for his family endures. That is, if he is truly a man.”
---
The Plot Unfolds
Meanwhile, back in the hall, the nobleman who had been observing the siblings stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Only a few lower-ranking nobles and guards remained. In a low voice, he said, “Only act when I give the go-ahead.”
---
Outside the Castle
Near a small, heavily-guarded building, a towering Pesterio with four arms, dark skin and a horn on his forehead stood before the entrance. His bald head gleamed under the moonlight as he waved his hand in front of an oblivious guard. “This artifact is really good. I can’t believe he can’t see me.”
Hiding behind a tree, a dark-skinned human girl with an afro whispered sharply, “Beily, stop that. Don’t ruin the mission before it even starts.”
The Pesterio, Beily, grinned. “Relax, Silvie. They can’t see or hear us. The artifact is working. Dreados will give the signal soon. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
---
The Mission Begins
As the king stood in the Queen’s Tower, the weight of his emotions consuming him, the world outside remained oblivious to the dangerous scheme unfolding near the castle.
In the shadows outside the treasure room, Beily, the towering Pesterio, crouched with an eager grin as he held a small device in his hand. Turning to the human girl beside him, Silvie, he whispered with an edge of excitement, “It’s time. Put on the suit. You Earthers are so frail, I’ve already drawn the circle around the guards.”
Silvie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest, but she nodded and began securing the thin black suit around her body. The material shimmered faintly, hugging her figure like liquid metal as a helmet formed over her head.
Beily bent low, his unnervingly eyeless face inches from hers. “Is your heart pounding?” His voice was low and teasing, as if he thrived on her nervousness.
Silvie swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Beily smirked, straightening up and turning back to his device. “Good.”
With that, he pressed the button. Instantly, the guards stationed around the treasure room stiffened, their bodies seizing before collapsing unconscious to the ground.
“You brought the Krack, right?” Beily asked, his tone light as if they weren’t committing treason against an entire kingdom.
Silvie held up a small artifact, its crystalline structure glowing faintly. “Yes.”
Beily nodded approvingly, then handed her a small device. “Remember, what you’re looking for is red and shiny.”
As she prepared to move, Beily opened a sleek briefcase, revealing two polished swords and a long, rune-etched gun. He armed himself, slinging the weapon over his back and gripping the swords firmly. His muscles coiled as he braced himself to leap. Turning back, he gave her one last look. “Don’t die on me. Oh, and wait until you hear a loud noise before you start.”
Without waiting for her response, he launched himself skyward with tremendous force, the impact of his leap creating a small crater and sending a gust of wind that whipped through the area. Silvie stumbled slightly, her wide eyes fixed on his rapidly disappearing form. “What the hell…” she whispered, momentarily stunned by his inhuman strength.
Shaking off her awe, she approached the treasure room’s entrance. Using the Krack, she tapped it against the massive doors. They instantly disintegrated into fine dust, revealing the treasure trove within. Silvie’s mind replayed Beily’s warning: “This artifact is invaluable. Countless lives were lost to acquire it. Do not lose it.”
As the loud noise of Beily’s destructive antics echoed in the distance, Silvie darted inside.
---
Silvie’s Trial
The treasure room was vast and dimly lit, the air thick with an unearthly stillness. Shelves lined with gold and artifacts gleamed faintly in the dim light, and intricate traps lay hidden in plain sight.
Silvie moved with newfound agility, her enhanced suit heightening her reflexes and strength. “I can’t believe this suit is this powerful,” she thought as she dodged a volley of arrows triggered by a stray movement. Leaping and twisting through the air with acrobatic precision, she reached a spiral staircase descending into the depths.
Beily’s words rang in her ears: “If you move fast enough, the traps won’t get you.”
With a confident smile, she sprinted down the stairs, weaving through mechanical snares and pressure-sensitive tiles. At the bottom, a massive chamber greeted her. Seven humanoid stone statues stood motionless, each armed with weapons, guarding an altar piled high with treasures.
At the center of the altar, bathed in an eerie glow, were two gleaming red gloves. Silvie’s heart skipped a beat. “Red and shiny. That has to be it,” she thought.
Cautiously, she crept past the statues, the artifact in her possession masking her presence. “With this artifact, nothing can detect me,” she reassured herself, inching closer to the altar. When she finally reached the gloves, she exhaled in relief, her trembling hands hovering over the prized objects.
---
The Assault on Ignir
Meanwhile, in the Queen’s Tower, Valerius, Eryndor, and the nobles rushed to the windows as deafening booms echoed throughout the city. To their horror, massive craters, each spanning 80 meters in diameter, were appearing across entire neighborhoods, obliterating buildings and scattering debris.
Eryndor’s sharp eyes narrowed as he assessed the situation. “What is happening?” he asked aloud, his tone calm but layered with urgency.
An Elven noble screamed, “We’re under attack!”
The princess, still wiping away tears from moments earlier, spun around in shock. “What?” She ran to the window, her eyes widening at the devastation. Her voice broke as she cried out, “Father! The city is being destroyed!”
The king remained kneeling beside his wife, his hands trembling as he held hers. Tears streaked his cheeks, and his body appeared lifeless, like an empty vessel consumed by his emotions.
The princess knelt beside him, shaking him desperately. “Father! Please, we need you!”
The nobles erupted in panic. “What is happening to the king?” one shouted.
Another noble exclaimed, “My lord, we are under attack!”
Hesta stepped forward, her tone grim. “The king hasn’t seen his wife speak in 30 cycles. He won’t be himself for a while.”
The siblings regrouped, their expressions grim. Valerius muttered, “What a perfect time to attack—the king is out of commission.”
Eryndor’s tone was sharper, his words heavy with thought. “This is no coincidence. Such an assault is far too precise to be random. This calamity has been meticulously orchestrated, its timing no accident. The mastermind behind this attack knows exactly when and how to strike.”
The princess, desperation in her voice, cried out, “Call the commander of security!”
---
The Breach
Back in the treasure room, as Silvie lifted the red gloves from the altar, an ear-splitting alarm blared throughout the chamber. The stone guardians began to move, their eyes glowing a menacing red.
Upstairs in the surveillance room, panicked guards turned their attention to the monitors. “The treasure room has been breached!” one shouted.
Another guard stammered, his voice filled with dread. “How did we not see this? We’re doomed!”
As the massive doors began to seal, Silvie sprinted toward the exit, the gloves clutched tightly in her hands. “Beily, you better keep your promise!” she thought, her heart pounding as the room’s defenses activated around her.
---
Beily’s Devastation
Outside, Beily landed amidst a group of Elven guards, his swords gleaming as he cut through them with ease. The sheer force of his landing created a crater, scattering debris and ending the lives of all in the immediate vicinity.
The nobleman who had stared at the siblings spoke into a pen like device. " knock down the queens tower."
Pulling out a sleek pen-like device, Beily spoke into it. “Where’s the Queen’s Tower?”
The nobleman replied calmly through the device. “The highest point of the castle.”
Beily smirked. “Quite far… but manageable.”
With a burst of energy, he launched himself toward the tower, positioning his feet as a glowing blue disk formed beneath him. “The maximum range of my ability is 100 meters,” he thought. “But the tower is only 20 meters wide. Let’s narrow the range to ensure precision.”
The disk shrank, focusing its destructive energy. Beily collided with the base of the Queen’s Tower, the impact obliterating its foundation and sending the structure plummeting.
---
The Collapse
Inside the tower, the sudden collapse tore through the air with a deafening crack, the walls groaning as the structure gave way. The nobles, guards, and siblings were flung helplessly into the air as gravity and chaos intertwined. Chandeliers shattered against the tumbling walls, and debris cascaded around them like a deadly rain.
The princess, overcome by the abrupt acceleration, lost consciousness, her limp body suspended mid-air as shards of glass and stone spun around her. Valerius, his body twisting in the air, struggled to grasp at anything solid. His voice cracked with panic as he yelled, "We’re falling!"
From the castle below, amidst the chaos of crumbling stone and deafening destruction, a figure sprang into action. In a span of mere seconds, a man—his movements sharp and deliberate—grabbed a woman by the hand. With calculated precision, he spun her with incredible force, the momentum building as her long cloak flared out behind her. Without hesitation, he hurled her with astounding strength toward the collapsing tower.
The woman, now a blur of motion, clutched a massive shield. Her trajectory was flawless, cutting through the thick cloud of debris and rubble. The shards of glass and stone fell away as she burst through the tower's window, the impact leaving a jagged opening in her wake. From her perspective, the world seemed to slow to a crawl as she scanned the chaos. There, amidst the deadly cascade, was Ziraiah, her body suspended mid-air in a descent that seemed frozen in time.
With an expert twist of her body, the woman angled herself toward Ziraiah. The shield she held beneath her feet served as a makeshift platform, absorbing the brunt of the falling debris. Reaching out with one hand, she caught the girl firmly, pulling her close. With a powerful thrust, she redirected their fall, bracing herself against the shield once more as they hurtled through the chaos.
The woman’s mind flashed back to a moment just before the chaos erupted. She recalled her transformation—a shift from a plump, unassuming noblewoman to her true form: a statuesque and radiant young Elf with sharp features and piercing green eyes. In the memory, the man who had hurled her, now revealed in his own handsome Elven form, stood beside her. His voice, calm and assured, echoed in her thoughts:
"After Beily knocks down the tower, you will have exactly one second to act. Enter the falling tower, secure the girl, and get out immediately."
Her lips curved into a small, amused smile as the memory faded. “Dreados,” she thought to herself, the humor tinged with admiration. “Your plans are always maddeningly precise.”
Back in the present, the woman tightened her grip on Ziraiah. With one final push of her shield, she crashed through the opposite wall of the tower, propelling both herself and the girl away from the deadly collapse. Tumbling through the air, her body twisted with controlled grace as she tried to balance herself in the air.
---
Gustein’s Desperation
Meanwhile, Gustein tumbled uncontrollably alongside the king, the queen, and their unconscious daughter. His body bounced against crumbling sections of the tower, and he shouted with desperation, “Hey! Snap out of it, you fool! We’re going to die!”
The king’s eyes, clouded with emotion, began to focus. The weight of his family’s survival cut through his grief. With a roar of determination, his magic surged forth, casting radiant golden runes that formed an intricate barrier around himself, his wife, his daughter, Hesta, and a few nearby nobles. The shimmering shield deflected the falling debris, carving out a fragile sanctuary amidst the chaos.
---
The Impact
The collapsing tower plummeted toward the ground, massive chunks of stone shattering into the earth with catastrophic force. The initial impact sent shockwaves rippling through the castle grounds, creating craters and fissures that swallowed nearby structures. Entire sections of the courtyard disappeared beneath the debris, while clouds of dust and smoke rose like a shroud over the devastation.
Unprotected, Valerius and Eryndor hurtled toward the ground. Eryndor twisted mid-air, his sharp eyes scanning for any possible salvation. He reached for Valerius but found nothing to grab. The brothers locked eyes briefly—Valerius’s filled with panic, Eryndor’s with grim resolve.
“This must be it,” Valerius thought bitterly as the wind howled around him. “I can’t believe this is how my life ends.”
To Be Continued…