Chapter 1531: Story 1531: The Cinder Gate

The plains ended abruptly at a jagged scar in the earth. There, rising from the ash like the bones of a dead god, stood the Cinder Gate.

Two colossal doors of black stone jutted skyward, their surfaces etched with veins of molten fire. Chains thicker than tree trunks wrapped across them, glowing faintly as if forged from the heart of a living furnace. The air shimmered with heat, carrying the acrid tang of scorched iron.

The survivors stopped at the sight, their hollow eyes widening in awe and dread. Some whispered prayers, others curses. The scarred woman only tightened her grip on her spear.

Elara held the Ashborn Child closer. Its glow flickered violently, as if the sight of the gate pained it. Cracks of ember-light spread across its frail skin. Its lips trembled with words. “Chains… break… father waits…”

Kael’s stomach knotted. The child had whispered of chains before. Now the proof loomed before them, bound into the gate itself.

One of the survivors spat into the dust. “That’s no gate. That’s a tomb. And only fools try to open tombs.”

The scarred woman silenced him with a glare, but her voice was hard. “This is what your pet leads us to? A prison for monsters?”

Elara’s fire flared faintly, defiant despite her exhaustion. “Or a prison for the monster. If the chains hold him, maybe this is where we strike.”

Kael stepped closer to the gate. Heat licked at his skin, searing his lungs with every breath. He laid a hand on the blackened stone. The tremor of the Unborn’s heartbeat surged through it, stronger than anywhere else. Each thrum rattled the chains, as though the giant within shifted restlessly in his sleep.

The ground trembled suddenly. A crack split open near the base of the gate, spewing ash and flame. From it crawled figures of molten stone and shadow—guardians, their bodies sculpted from fire-hardened rock, eyes glowing with the same ember light that coursed through the chains.

The survivors staggered back in terror. “Not spawn,” one hissed. “Something worse.”

Kael drew his jagged blade, teeth bared. “Then we fight worse.”

The scarred woman rallied her people, shields rising, weapons drawn. But Kael knew steel alone would not be enough. The guardians moved with relentless weight, their footsteps shaking the plain.

The Ashborn Child cried out, light spilling wildly from its frail body. The chains across the gate pulsed in response, a chorus of fire and iron answering its call. The guardians faltered, their movements stuttering as if caught between duty and command.

Elara staggered, clutching the child tighter. Her voice cracked. “It can stop them—but the light is burning it out.”

Kael’s heart pounded. Every choice cut like a blade: protect the child and risk their deaths, or force it to wield its power and watch it shatter.

The scarred woman’s voice rang over the chaos, harsh and certain. “Decide, warrior. Weapon or curse—choose now!”

The guardians advanced, fire blazing in their stone claws, and the Cinder Gate groaned under the pull of its chains.