2025-03-31 14:00:40The night was cloaked in heavy silence, broken only by the distant calls of nocturnal creatures. Under the cover of darkness, Queen Elara moved swiftly through the hidden corridors of the palace, her robes flowing like shadows in the dim torchlight. Behind her, the priestesses followed, their hoods drawn, their steps silent.
They emerged at the towering stone wall—an unassuming barrier that concealed the most sacred place in Vynoria. No ordinary person would ever know of the hidden door built seamlessly into its structure.Elara placed her palm against the cold stone, whispering the ancient words of passage. A faint glow pulsed beneath her hand before the wall groaned softly, shifting inward just enough for them to slip through.“Hurry,” she instructed in a hushed voice.One by one, the priestesses stepped inside, and the moment the last one entered, Elara pulled the door shut behind them, sealing the entrance. The world outside disappeared.<
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
The God of War Calen Storm Don't Know What to Do
Queen Elara knelt by the river’s edge, her fingers trembling as they grazed the cool surface of the water. The Sacred River, once the life force of Vynoria, was now weakened—its flow sluggish, its once-lustrous glow barely a flicker.Desperation clawed at her chest. Why? She had done everything in her power to restore it. The rituals, the offerings, the prayers—nothing had worked.Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to wipe them away. One by one, they slipped down her cheeks, falling into the water. Her voice, hoarse with exhaustion and despair, barely rose above a whisper."What do you need?"Silence.Her fingers curled into fists, still submerged in the river. “I have given everything,” she choked out. “And yet you continue to wither. Vynoria is on the brink of ruin, and I—” Her voice broke. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I cannot fail them. I cannot fail my mother and father. Please…” Her fingers tightened. “Tell me what
The God of War Calen Storm The Rain
Calen remained hidden in the shadows, his sharp eyes fixed on the stone doorway built into the palace wall. One by one, the priestesses emerged from within, their hoods drawn low over their faces, their expressions grim. Their movements were hurried, almost anxious, as if burdened by something that had just transpired inside.But Queen Elara was not among them.Calen's brows furrowed. What had happened in there? Why was the queen still inside?He stayed rooted to his spot, waiting, watching. Minutes dragged on like hours, the night stretching into silence except for the occasional roll of distant thunder. And then, finally, the door creaked open again.Elara stepped out.Even from a distance, Calen could see that something was wrong. Her posture, usually so poised and commanding, was frail. Her steps were unsteady, and as she passed under the dim glow of a nearby lantern, he caught sight of her face.Tear-streaked. Eyes swollen a
The God of War Calen Storm This Cannot Happen
Calen watched as Queen Elara trembled, rain-soaked and vulnerable in the middle of the garden. His voice was gentle but firm as he asked, "Your Majesty, are you alright? Do you need me to escort you back to your chamber?"Elara's breath hitched. She couldn't look at him. Her heart pounded so loudly in her chest that she feared he might hear it. The warmth of his hand still lingered on hers, a touch so foreign yet… comforting.No. This cannot happen.Without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and ran. Her soaked dress clung to her as she rushed through the palace gardens, past the lantern-lit corridors, and up the stone steps leading to her chamber. She didn’t dare look back.I cannot fall for him. He is the enemy. A general of Aerondale. A man sent here to see my downfall.Her breathing was ragged when she finally reached her chamber. She slammed the door shut and pressed her back against it, hands clutching the fabric over her racing heart.But the Sacred River…The River h
The God of War Calen Storm The Guilt
Calen Storm stood tall in the dimly lit chamber, his piercing gaze shifting between his two trusted captains—Aldric and Edric. Their expressions were serious, awaiting his command.“If the queen continues to stall, we must push her,” Calen stated firmly, his voice low yet filled with authority. “We cannot allow her to buy more time. Keep your eyes open and your ears sharp. Observe everything—her movements, the council’s meetings, anything unusual.”Aldric and Edric exchanged brief nods before responding in unison. “Understood, General.”Calen studied them for a moment, then dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He trusted their skills—Aldric was resourceful, and Edric had an eye for the smallest details. If there was any information to uncover, they would find it.When they left, Calen exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his dark hair. He walked toward his bed, unfastening the belt that held his weapons before sitting down on the edge of the mattress. His mind churned, trying to p
The God of War Calen Storm The Prize
The morning sun was just beginning to rise over Rivermore as Calen Storm and his two captains, Aldric and Edric, mounted their horses at the palace gates. The crisp air carried the scent of damp earth from the previous night's rain, and the roads glistened faintly with lingering moisture. The three warriors sat tall in their saddles, their cloaks billowing slightly in the cool breeze.The grand city of Rivermore stretched behind them, its towering spires and intricate bridges casting long shadows in the morning light. They had spent weeks within its walls, navigating the careful dance of diplomacy and observation, yet now they were finally departing. The news they carried would change the course of two nations.As they rode through the outskirts of the city, past fields and quiet hamlets still shrouded in early morning mist, Aldric was the first to break the silence. “I still can’t believe Queen Elara agreed to the proposal so easily,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I expected more r
The God of War Calen Storm Jealousy
The sound of wood cracking echoed sharply through the stone corridors of the eastern wing of Aerondale’s military citadel.General Evan Drake stood in his office, his chest heaving, the splinters of a shattered goblet strewn across the floor. The heavy oak table bore a fresh dent from the force of his fist. Papers were scattered—battle plans, intelligence reports, diplomatic records—all now forgotten in the wake of the news that had just reached him.The sharp crack of wood splitting echoed through the stone walls of the eastern military wing as General Evan Drake slammed his fist onto the desk, sending a crystal decanter crashing to the ground. The wine seeped into war maps and strategy scrolls, now forgotten.“He succeeded?” Evan spat, disbelief lacing every word. “Calen Storm succeeded?”His aide stood stiffly by the door, unsure if he should speak. “Yes, General. The Queen of Vynoria has accepted King Ashford’s proposal. The message came directly from General Storm himself. The Ki
The God of War Calen Storm Secret Plan
As the King turned to give further instructions to his advisors, Calen’s sharp eyes flicked toward General Evan Drake. The man stood there, composed, ever the image of a loyal officer. But there was something in his smile—too calm, too gracious—that set off alarms in Calen’s mind.He volunteered too quickly, Calen thought. Evan Drake doesn’t offer support unless there’s something in it for him.Their eyes met across the courtyard. Evan’s lips curled slightly into a knowing smirk, his gaze unreadable. It wasn’t the expression of a man offering support—it was the expression of someone who had just moved a piece on a hidden chessboard.Calen narrowed his eyes but said nothing. The King had already given his decree. There was no room for protest. Whatever Evan was planning, Calen would have to remain vigilant and trust no one but the men he commanded himself.After the formalities concluded, Calen excused himself from the gathering and made his way to the military wing of the palace. Ther
The God of War Calen Storm First Meeting
As the first blush of dawn lit the sky in soft hues of gold and rose, the gates of the grand palace of Aerondale creaked open. Trumpets sounded low and regal as the royal procession assembled in the palace courtyard, bathed in the ethereal light of morning. Servants bustled about, tightening saddle straps, checking the gilded wheels of carriages, and ensuring the safety of the heavy, ornate chests filled with gifts fit for a queen.Silks from the East, goldwork from the southern isles, precious gems from Aerondale’s mines—all stacked neatly inside lavishly decorated palanquin, carried by eight men each. These were no mere tributes—they were trophies, flaunting Aerondale’s wealth and power, meant to impress and overwhelm.General Calen Storm sat astride his dark warhorse at the front, armor polished to a mirror sheen, his crimson cloak trimmed in gold fluttering lightly behind him in the wind. His gaze was sharp, scanning the horizon even before the gates had fully opened. He felt the
Latest Chapter
The New King
The skies over Aerondale were a pale gray, as though the heavens themselves mourned the fall of the kingdom’s sovereign. A soft, cold drizzle blanketed the cobblestone streets of Ardenfell, dampening the black banners that fluttered from every tower, every rooftop, every archway. Bells tolled in slow, rhythmic mourning, echoing through the city like a heartbeat that had grown faint.People lined the streets in silence, dressed in black. Faces were pale, tear-streaked. Women clutched their children close. Old men removed their hats. Some fell to their knees, sobbing openly. The air was thick with grief—but beneath it, a whisper of fear. Their king was dead. And Aerondale had not just lost a monarch, but its pride.Inside the Grand Hall of the Citadel, the atmosphere was colder still.The wives of the late King Ashford stood along the right side of the throne room, dressed in mourning veils, their faces somber. Among them stood Queen Isabella—the First Queen. Her face was unreadable, ca
The Hesitation
Lightning cracked like a whip, loud enough to shake the marrow in one's bones. Calen Storm surged through the battlefield like a living tempest, boots slamming against the crumbling marble floor as his blade blazed with raw, searing electricity. Every step he took left cracks in the earth; the palace groaned as though recognizing the fury it now housed.Across the fractured great hall, Queen Elara stood amidst ruin, her silver and blue robes torn at the hem, hair cascading like ink down her shoulders. Yet she was poised, chin high, and strangely untouched by the chaos. The moonlight streaming from the shattered ceiling above haloed her in blue—regal, radiant, resolute.Their eyes locked.And then, Calen lunged.The clash was cataclysmic.Calen’s blade screamed through the air, striking like thunder, while Elara met each swing with almost preternatural fluidity. She spun, twisted, parried—her movements like silk over steel, her hands aglow with blue arcane light. Magic and metal met mi
The Storm Raged On
Calen stood amidst a growing circle of unconscious bodies and shattered stone, a whirlwind of fury and power. Lightning cracked again, this time arcing out from his back like wings made of storm. The force of his rage alone had begun to fracture the very structure of the palace.Down below, in the great courtyard where the soldiers of Aerondale had been bound, a fork of lightning slammed into the stone—not killing, but disrupting. The shock ripped through the ranks of the Vynorian guards, sending them sprawling and unconscious, their weapons skidding across the floor.The ropes binding the Aerondale soldiers burned and snapped, singed at the edges. The first to rise was Captain Rhys, shaking the dizziness from his head. Then another, and another. A dozen soldiers unbound, then two dozen, then more.Their eyes burned with renewed purpose.“Free the others!” Rhys barked. “The King is dead—but the war isn’t over!”They moved fast, cutting ropes and lifting comrades to their feet. One of
The Rise of The God of War
Calen gritted his teeth, still kneeling beside the King as his hands glowed faintly with the pulsating energy he had been channeling. Sweat streamed down his brow, and his voice was firm yet laced with desperation."Your Majesty," Calen said, eyes burning with conviction, "we cannot surrender. Not like this. Not to treachery. Not to Vynoria's deception. You must hold on."But before the King could respond, Queen Elara stepped further into the healing chamber, her long cloak trailing behind her like a shadow swallowing the light. Her expression was unreadable—calm, confident, lethal."How noble of you, General Storm," she said, her voice as smooth as silk and as sharp as a blade. "But spare me your speeches about honor. Did you not come to my kingdom as a spy yourself? Using a royal betrothal to gain entry to my court? Don’t speak to me of 'dishonorable means'—you, of all people, have forfeited that right."Calen didn’t turn to face her. His focus remained solely on the King. "Even so.
The Final Ultimatum
Inside the flickering firelit chamber, the air was thick with tension and urgency. Calen knelt beside the unconscious King, his hand pressed firmly to the monarch’s chest. A soft golden light glowed from his palm—his energy flowing steadily, barely keeping the King tethered to life. Beads of sweat rolled down Calen’s temple, his entire body straining to maintain the transfer. The Aerondale healers worked feverishly around him, whispering incantations, their hands trembling as they tried to assist his efforts.Then something shifted.Calen's eyes narrowed as he felt a sudden disturbance—a faint vibration in the floor, a distant clamor. His senses, sharpened by years on the battlefield, screamed a warning. Shouts—muffled, but rising. Movement. Metal clashing softly. A surge of magical energy—hostile, surrounding the palace.Something was wrong.One of the Aerondale healers looked up from the King’s side, her voice trembling. “Do you feel that? Something’s happening…”Calen didn’t answer
Kneel!
The tall arched doors to the healing chamber creaked open once more. A small figure stepped through—the youngest of the Vynorian healers, a girl with dark braids and steady eyes that belied her age. She moved swiftly, almost unnoticed, weaving through the crowd until she stood beside Queen Elara.Without drawing attention, she leaned in and whispered something into the Queen’s ear. Whatever it was, it made Elara’s lips curl ever so slightly into a ghost of a smile.She gave a graceful nod to the girl, who bowed low and disappeared into the shadows once more.Evan, ever watchful, stepped forward with narrowed eyes.“What is it? What happened? Is the king…” His voice faltered for a moment. “What’s his condition?”Queen Elara didn’t respond.Instead, she slowly raised her hand—elegant fingers poised like the opening movement of a deadly dance.At once, a sharp whistle sliced through the air.From every corner of the great hall, shadows moved. Gleaming armor stepped from alcoves and behin
Bring Back The Sun
As the heavy doors closed behind Calen, silence wrapped around the great hall for a brief moment—before it was broken once again by the sharp footsteps of Seraphina returning.She approached Queen Elara swiftly but gracefully, then leaned in to whisper something into the queen’s ear. Whatever she said, it was meant only for Elara.The queen gave a single, serene nod. Then she whispered in return, "Wait a little longer."Seraphina inclined her head in understanding and slipped away into the shadows once more, her crimson cloak trailing silently behind her.Meanwhile, Evan Drake was still at it—his voice rising above the murmurs in the hall, sharp with accusation and barely-contained fury.“He’s sealing the king’s fate! That’s what he’s doing!” Evan shouted, stepping forward, his face flushed with rage. “You all saw it—he was the last person beside His Majesty before the collapse. And now he demands to be alone with him? Wake up!”A nobleman from Vynoria stepped forward, nodding fervent
Let Me In!
The chamber was small and dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a single wall-mounted brazier. Shadows danced along the stone walls, creating an intimate and secretive atmosphere—far from the chaos and suspicion outside.Queen Elara Wynn stepped inside first, her elegant silhouette outlined in amber light. She did not sit, nor did she offer Calen a seat. Instead, she turned slowly to face him, her expression unreadable—serene, composed, yet undeniably sharp.“We are alone now, General Storm,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Speak your truth. What is it you wish to say?”Calen took a breath. His jaw was tight, his eyes searching hers not with hostility—but with relentless intent.“I will not allow anyone to harm the King,” he said bluntly.“Whoever is responsible for this... I will find them.”Elara arched an eyebrow.“And do you think that person is me?” she asked, the faintest trace of a smile curving her lips—one that didn’t reach her eyes.“That is not what I said,” Calen re
Calen's Request
The hall had grown tense with murmurs and watchful eyes, but Calen Storm remained still, his gaze locked on the corridor where the High Priestess and Royal Healer had disappeared with the unconscious King.He turned sharply to Seraphina and spoke with firm authority, his voice laced with the tension of responsibility.“I must observe the healing process.”He kept his posture composed, though his jaw was clenched.“The Royal Healer from Aerondale must not be interrupted — not unless Vynoria’s healers are providing support, not taking over.”Seraphina raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.“Support?” she repeated, almost scoffing.“Vynoria has one of the most advanced healing orders in the known realms. We’ve trained under sacred waters and stars for generations. Our methods are precise and effective.”She took a deliberate step closer, lowering her voice slightly.“And with all due respect, General Storm, you are not a healer. You are a soldier. You should not interfere in matters bey
