Andrew Moore
Stories
19
Chapters
11,817
Words
6.0 M
Comments
0
Reading
20 d, 23 h
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Argrave walked out into a wide-open valley, alone in spirit but not in fact. Excluding the thousands of blood-infused wind eels soaring above him as a cloud of death, he had the charming company of the Shadowlanders, playing the role of the lurking mountain lion ready to leap down upon him. In the back of his mind, he kept at close attention the blood echo positioned miles away. One of the good fortunes about being in an area where the enemy had no knowledge of him meant that he could call upon old tricks…-
155 •
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Argrave sat on the windowsill of Margrave Reinhardt’s keep, peering out into Vasquer. Anneliese sat in a chair just before him while Galamon stood beside her, ever watchful. These two had been his main council through his most difficult moments, easing the transition from hothouse flower college boy to whatever he was now. And he felt glad they were both gathered again when this difficult situation had come up. Anneliese turned her chair around so that she could lean forward against its back, then…
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155 •
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After a few long moments and the sudden appearance and disappearance of Don's face, the vortex spat him out. "Finally," Michael mumbled, bracing himself against a sudden wave of dizziness, his senses reeling from the abrupt transition. When he opened his eyes, the dim, oppressive atmosphere of the Obsidian Palace was gone, replaced by… well, by something else entirely. He was standing on a hilltop, overlooking a sprawling kingdom that could only be described as… magical. The sun hung high in a…-
142 •
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Back on the battlefield, the remnants of Skyhall's once-proud army were being systematically stripped of their dignity, along with their valuables. Heaps of discarded armor, weapons, and space rings glittered under the dim light of the artificial sky, a testament to the swift and brutal efficiency of the Dark Lord's forces. "Get those damn boots off too!" a dark army soldier barked, shoving a Skyhall knight to his knees. "And the shirt! The Dark Lord said everything!" The knight, his face pale with…
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142 •
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"Hold on a sec," Michael said, turning back towards the frozen serpent and the two fleeing figures, his smile fading as quickly as it had appeared. "Forgot about a few loose ends." He raised a hand, channeling his power once more. Another wave of Frostbite, even more potent than the last, slammed into the serpent, encasing it in a thicker layer of ice. The monstrous creature, already frozen solid, didn't even have time to twitch before it was completely immobilized, its two heads locked in expressions…
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142 •
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The name, uttered in a hushed whisper by the frozen Lady Elara, hit Michael like a thunderbolt. "Don?" He echoed, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "The Ancient God… Don?" It couldn't be. Could it? He'd met Don. Back in his Shadow Realm days, when he was still learning the ropes of his powers, he traveled through multiple universes and stumbled across Don's realm. Don himself was practically the main character in his own universe. As far as what Michael learned and observed, Don was a king who…
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142 •
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"Well, well, well," Michael murmured, examining the key in his hand. It was warm to the touch, pulsing with an energy that felt both ancient and… familiar. He glanced at the remaining heads of the serpent, each one a grotesque fusion of Skyhall's elite, their faces twisted in masks of fear and rage. "Looks like we've stumbled onto something interesting, haven't we?" The way they were acting, the sheer desperation in their movements, told him everything he needed to know. This wasn't just some…
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142 •
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When Michael finally let go, all that remained of Thorfinn was a mangled, limbless torso, its one remaining eye staring up at the artificial sky with a vacant horror that would haunt the few remaining Skyhall soldiers for the rest of their short, miserable lives. A hush fell over the battlefield. Even Lenora, usually immune to anything resembling empathy, seemed subdued, her usual bloodlust replaced by a primal unease that spoke volumes. Her hands still dripping with the blood of a dozen Skyhall…
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142 •
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1345 Bloody Retribution (Long Chapter) "You pathetic little fuck," Michael growled, his voice dangerously low. He stared at Thorfinn, really stared at him, and for a moment, the dwarf regretted pissing off the Dark Lord. Thorfinn braced himself, expecting the killing blow. He'd seen what that obsidian blade could do, witnessed the way it cleaved through flesh and bone as if they were nothing more than thin paper. But the killing blow didn't come. Not in the way Thorfinn expected. Michael, with a…
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1344 Truly Accepting Diana as his mother Meanwhile, back in the heart of the unfolding carnage, the seven-headed cobra continued its rampage. The monstrous creature, its scales a sickly green under the dim light of the dying stars, ripped through the ranks of Michael's army. Venom, like liquid moonlight laced with poison, painted gruesome arcs across the battlefield, leaving trails of disintegrated bodies in its wake. Michael, watching his forces fall, felt a cold fury build within him. He'd…
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