CHAPTER 31 : GRAGAN DETERMINATIONGragan’s entire body was aflame with fury, the kind of anger that had simmered over years of betrayal, betrayal that tore at his honor like a wound that would never heal. Every blow, every swing of his hamaxe, was driven by his need to redeem himself, to prove his worth not only to himself but to the memory of his beloved prince, Zen. The betrayal that cost him his position, his life, his honor, it all boiled to the surface, pushing him onward with reckless determination. His soul demanded one thing: vengeance.Kael, watching Gragan charge forward like an unstoppable force, smirked. This human was stubborn, that much was clear, and perhaps a bit mad. But no amount of anger would be enough to surpass Kael’s mastery of the elements. With a flick of his wrist, Kael summoned roots from the earth, thick and gnarled, which shot up around Gragan in twisted shapes, forming a dome of ancient, unyielding wood. The dome grew higher and higher, roots interlocking

CHAPTER 33 : SHADOW OF BLADEThe darkness settled into Vy's veins, a pulse of shadow that felt both foreign and intrinsic, as if it had always been there, waiting for this very moment to be summoned. She staggered slightly, the weight of Azael’s power bearing down upon her like a storm. The dark energy snaked through her veins, mingling with her heartbeat until every thump felt like thunder.From the swirling shadows, Azael’s voice rumbled again, softer but laced with a cold intensity, wrapping around her mind like a vice.“You carry this gift, but know it is not yours alone. It craves the spilling of blood, it lives through your wrath.”Vy clenched her jaw, her fingers tingling as dark wisps coiled around the dagger at her side, infusing it with a shadowy aura. The blade, once just steel, now thrummed with the essence of Azael himself, shadows spiraling up from its edge like dark flames. She gripped the dagger tightly, feeling it vibrate with a thirst she barely understood yet fully

CHAPTER 35 : LOREN’S NIGHTMAREAfter an exhausting day, Loren, Howard, and Anne found refuge in a quiet inn at the edge of town. They were physically drained from the intense boss fight event, each carrying lingering adrenaline and minor injuries as reminders of the brutal combat. As they settled into the comfort of their small but cozy room, the world outside faded, and they finally let their guard down.Anne stretched her arms overhead, her fingers tracing the ceiling beams. “I don’t think I’ve felt this sore since days ago. That boss fight was a lot.” she said, letting out a tired laugh as she dropped onto one of the beds. “Understatement of the year. I thought we’d lost it when Peacant got in that last strike. You saw Howard’s face, he looked ready to turn tail!” Loren chuckled, kicking off his boots and easing into a chair. “Ha! I did not.” Howard grumbled, though a faint smile betrayed him. “I was just being… strategically cautious.”“Strategically cautious, right. So cautiou

CHAPTER 37 : THE SWAMPLoren, Anne, and Howard continue their journey forward, their journey to the northern mountains leading them through a seemingly endless expanse of dense forest. As they ventured deeper, the trees grew taller and more twisted, their gnarled branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The once-sturdy ground beneath them began to soften, transforming into the murky, mud-ridden depths of a sprawling swamp.A thick, damp fog began to settle, casting an eerie pall over the area and swallowing up the thin rays of sunlight that dared filter through the canopy. The swamp felt alive, the stagnant water rippling as if disturbed by unseen creatures lurking just below the surface. A cold, unpleasant odor hung heavy in the air, a noxious mix of decaying leaves and stagnant water that made every breath feel labored.“Why did it have to be a swamp? I’ve got a terrible feeling about this place.” Anne muttered, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The ground grew so

CHAPTER 39 : MÉMOIREOn a bright morning, Claire decided to take young Anne to the market in town. It had been a few days since the last word of the war effort, and the silence hung over Heilen village like an unseen mist. Claire tried to keep Anne busy with small outings to the plaza and quiet afternoons at home, but she couldn’t entirely shield the child from the unease filling the air. Despite her best efforts to mask her worry, Claire’s heart tightened each time she looked at Anne, who still clutched the harp Maria had given her.The town plaza was bustling that day, villagers going about their business, some with faint lines of worry etched across their faces, others glancing toward the bulletin board as if waiting for news. Claire and Anne walked through the crowd, with Anne skipping along, holding tightly to her aunt’s hand.As they approached the square, Claire’s gaze was drawn to the large bulletin board at the center. There, a new announcement was posted, a large, neatly wri