The sky churned with violent winds and blinding snow as Lyra, Kaelyn, and Ammy peered anxiously toward the distant ice spire. The once majestic structure now lay shattered, a testament to the fierce battle that had taken place.They had watched from a distance, hearts pounding with worry about their husband, Sam, who had ventured into the heart of danger."He's been gone too long," Kaelyn murmured, her voice barely audible over the howling blizzard. "Do you think he's okay?""Sam is strong. He'll be fine," Lyra reassured, though her eyes betrayed her concern. "He always finds a way to come out on top."Ammy nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the chaotic scene ahead. "I just hope he didn't get himself into more trouble than he can handle."The blizzard raged on, and the three women waited, their anxiety mounting with each passing minute. Lyra's initial confidence began to waver as the storm showed no signs of abating, and Sam still hadn't returned."We should go after him," Lyra
"We aren't a cult," Dora began, her voice defensive. "We are the true believers. We follow the Archbishop, who promises us a new holy land, a place of greatness and salvation."Sam's eyes narrowed. "A holy land? Is it here in the north?”“No.”“Then, what does that holy land have to do with the northern region? "Freythia chimed in, her voice trembling. "We are collecting energy resources. The ice spire is a conduit used to create crystallized energy. The tundra has lots of dormant energy. We transformed that into a solid crystal form.”“But why do you need such a great amount of energy?”“We are going to build the promised land,” Dora said. “The Archbishop told us that harnessing this energy is crucial to achieving the promised land. We've been gathering and transferring the energy from the spires to a central location.""And who is this Archbishop?" Sam pressed.Dora hesitated. "The Archbishop leads us. He is a high ranking member of the Holy Church. But he has envisioned the coming
The caravan moved toward the rumored location of the Citadel. Sam was lost in thought, processing the information he had received. Ammy's healing magic worked wonders, and he felt his strength returning with each passing hour. Around him, the air was filled with conversations, each offering snippets of lore about the Citadel and the land they were heading into.Sam listened intently, his mind racing. "What do we know about its defenses? If it's a stronghold, it must be well-protected."One of the scouts, a wiry man, spoke up. "From what I've gathered, the Citadel is surrounded by natural barriers. The mountains are steep, and the plains are vast. But it's the unknown that worries me. No one knows exactly what lies beyond those mountains."Ammy, while channeling her healing energy into Sam, added softly, "The Archbishop has been gathering energy from the ice spires and transferring it there. Whatever they're planning, it has something to do with that energy. We need to be prepared for
Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "Aria? The Archmage of Elementalism? I didn't get a chance to fight you in the Tower of Aetherion. It's an honor to meet you."Aria nodded, her expression reserved. "The honor is mine, Sam. I've heard about your exploits. You are impressive."“You can duel later, there's more pressing matters,” Welzon said. Eldrak placed his big hand on Sam's shoulder. "We've been working to understand the Archbishop's true intentions. He promises a new holy land, but there's more to it. We need to stop him before he can fulfill whatever his plan is."“Are you asking me to join your group?” Sam asked.“The more power we have, the better our chances of winning,” Welzon said.“Then I’ll say no!” Sam said confidently.“What? Why? Aren’t you going down this path to fight the cult as well?” Eldrak said.“That’s right. But I can’t accept your offer,” Sam said. “You three should join my forces instead!”“Did the cold in the north freeze your brains?” Welzon said.“Hey, it’s ju
Welzon, the Archmage of Necromancy, nodded in agreement. "Even though we call it a great exodus, it’s more like a series of small migrations from many insignificant settlements on the outskirts, places that the Holy Church and the Magic Empire don’t care about."“Orphans, the poor, and survivors from various places are on the move,” Aria said.Ammy, ever curious, interjected, “But where are they heading? Is this the Archbishop’s promised land?”“Come on, tell us the exact location, Dora,” Sam urged.Dora, who had been quietly listening, spoke up hesitantly. “I don’t know exactly where they’re going. The Archbishop kept most of us in the dark about the specifics. We were told to believe in the vision of a better future.”Freythia added, “We were promised greatness, a holy land. But it was all vague, just enough to keep us hopeful and obedient.”“Don’t worry!” Eldrak said with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with resolve. “I’ve got the answers. The movements I’ve tracked point to a specific
The campfire crackled, casting flickering shadows on the faces gathered around it. The night was still, the air thick with anticipation. The conversation from the previous night hung heavily in the air as the group pondered the implications of what Sam had just said.Eldrak broke the silence. "A kingdom... that makes sense."Welzon, the Archmage of Necromancy, nodded thoughtfully. "If it is a properly functioning kingdom, I would not have a problem with it.""But I doubt that would happen," Aria interjected, her voice laced with skepticism. "Given what the cult has done previously.""Yeah," Sam added, "This is not going to be a normal kingdom, if it's going to be one at all."Barnabas leaned forward, his eyes intense. "We have to warn those people. If we can reach the Promised Land, maybe we can stop the Archbishop from doing something bad to those poor people.""We need to be careful," Kaelyn cautioned, her eyes wide with concern. "If the Archbishop is really building a new kingdom,
The tension in the camp was palpable. Sam and his companions stood in a tight circle, watching as cultists rifled through their belongings. Mother Elara, with her serene yet unnervingly watchful eyes, oversaw the search. Sam could feel his heart pounding in his chest. They had only just managed to steal the critical document that hinted about the Archbishop’s true plans. If it were found, they were as good as dead.“Check the tents thoroughly,” Mother Elara ordered, her voice calm but commanding.Sam’s mind raced. The document needed to be hidden, and fast. Suddenly, he remembered the Daemonic Vault, a gift from a Friedo. It allowed him to store items in a pocket dimension, or more precisely, the daemonic realm.When a cultist moved closer, Sam subtly used that skill, feeling a slight tug as the document vanished from his hand into the void. The cultist's search turned up nothing but mundane items.“Looks like you’re clean,” one of the cultists muttered, moving on.Mother Elara's eyes
“Sound the alarm!” someone shouted from a distance. They had been noticed.The team saw the green landscape that stretched out before them, encircled by mountains that stood tall and imposing, like the walls of a colossal bowl. This land, rich and fertile, seemed to whisper tales of prosperity, but the reality was far more sinister.Around the castle walls were various smaller buildings and countless camps, with strange markings etched into the ground, a stark contrast to the lush surroundings. It was as if a malignant presence had tainted this otherwise idyllic place.In the heart of this verdant expanse stood a massive black rock castle, an ominous structure casting long, dark shadows over the terrain. Despite the beautiful landscape, the reality of their situation was grim.They could see people, the seekers, moving about, their movements sluggish and weary, chains clinking with every step. The beauty of the scenery was in stark contrast to the wretched condition of the seekers, hi