CHAPTER 65: THE CALM BEFORE THE ASH

Few Minutes Before the Destruction of Inferna Hollow

Back at the Aetherthorn...

ROOAAR!

CRASH!

KABOOOOM!

The Nightral lashed out with a thunderous claw strike, slamming against the glowing barrier of the Aetherthorn nonstop.

Smoke and shadow clung to its monstrous form as it thrashed with fury, desperate to tear through the protection shielding the elven survivors.

Inside the golden barrier, screams echoed like trapped birds flapping against a cage.

"Mother, I’m scared!"

"I know, sweetheart. I know..."

The woman murmured, her voice trembling as she pulled her daughter closer.

"But don’t be afraid. We’re safe here. The Aetherthorn and the spirits of our ancestors, they’re watching over us."

She tried to sound confident. But the quake beneath her feet betrayed the truth. Each thunderous thud that slammed into the barrier rattled the earth and made her breath catch. Her knuckles whitened as she clung to her child.

The barrier shimmered, pulsing faintly with golden light. With every blow, it rippled like fabric stretched to its limit.

Beyond it, there was only chaos. Flames devouring the treetops, smoke coiling like vipers in the sky, and the distorted silhouette of something massive pacing outside.

A jagged, monstrous shadow- like a zombie jaguar gnawing mindlessly at the edge of a sacred mirror, desperate to shatter its way in.

"Are you sure the Aetherthorn will hold?" a Velka Dar warrior asked under his breath, his voice low but tense. His gaze flicked to an elder nearby—a gold-haired seer draped in bark-woven robes.

The elder’s eyes didn’t move. They were fixed on the dome above, lips pressed into a silent prayer.

And that silence... was not reassuring.

The elder, his left arm wrapped in golden cloth, blood seeping through, was Micha’el’s father. He frowned as he tightened the bandage.

"Truthfully? No one knows," he admitted. "The Whisker Oracle once said a Primordial Beast helped craft this haven, meant to be our refuge from the Wild Aetherthorn. That alone should mean it can withstand even a King Beast. Or so I hope."

THUD!

The Nightral’s enormous body pounced from the shadows again.

It bit, whipped with its tail, hurled bolts of corrupted mana, and stomped like a jaguar clawing at a gilded cage. From outside the barrier, its glowing white eyes glared in, filled with endless malice.

"COME OUT, INSECTS!!"

But the elves stayed still.

They had already tried fighting it and failed miserably.

None of their efforts had left a scratch on the creature. Even the Queen, despite her higher level, was clearly worn down. This wasn’t a battle of skill. It was survival against raw power.

And deep down, they all knew- they wouldn’t win this fight. Unless a miracle arrives.

Trying to distract themselves from rising fear, whispers began to circulate among the elves.

"Did you see the Queen? She looks like she just returned from a war zone," muttered a blacksmith from the Sylvanthir tribe.

"Her armor’s scorched. Maybe humans tried invading while we were distracted with the Trial of Fang," another replied.

"Rhiki and Kardel are with her... and they don’t look good either," said a third. "Maybe they left to help her, and that’s why they suddenly vanished during the fight with the Night Stalkers"

Meanwhile, behind layers of golden linen in a guarded private chamber, Queen Elarya lay slumped in an elegant chair. Her armor was battered. Her eyes distant. At least three healers worked around her, casting streams of green mana to restore her strength.

She heard the whispers.

And she said nothing.

Earlier, she had already told Rhiki and Kardel to keep quiet about the state of Inferna Hollow. If word got out that another King Beast was awakening in the Emberwood to the south, it would throw the entire elven tribes into panic.

Even Elarya wasn’t certain the Aetherthorn could withstand two King Beasts.

"I pray Auren is alright..." she whispered inwardly, a quiet hope buried beneath the weight of responsibility. "I know it was for our people, but I can’t help but feel guilty... like I betrayed him for leaving him behind."

THUD!

Sensing something is amess, she tilted her head toward the glowing golden barrier above them and narrowed her eyes.

A flicker of ethereal light shimmered across her irises as her observational magic flared to life.

’No...’

Hairline fractures. Thin as spider silk- almost invisible to the untrained eye.

But to her, they were cracks that didn’t just split the barrier but tugged at her gut. Jagged veins of weakness crawling across the only thing keeping them safe.

The Aetherthorn was breaking- slowly, but surely.

’I have to recover fast!’ she thought, gritting her teeth as she forced more healing mana through her battered veins. Every second mattered now. Her thoughts scrambled for backup plans.

’If the barrier falls... I’ll have to stall the Nightthral. Just long enough for the others to escape.’

Because if that monster got in-Runewood wouldn’t just fall.It would burn to ruins.

THUD!

Another impact- louder this time. The kind that made the earth itself shudder.

"Queen Mother," one of the healers whispered, voice brittle and laced with panic, "forgive me b-but... is there a chance t-the Aetherthorn might fall?"

Silence suddenly swept the camp.

No more murmurs. No rustle of armor. Even the guards outside froze. All of them listening to the queen’s answer.

Every soul near the Queen’s tent waited.

Elarya took a long, steadying breath.

What she said next... would either strengthen their hope- or shatter it.

"With all things," she began, her voice steady but low, "we must trust in the Whisker Oracle. It guided our ancestors to this sanctuary, and not once in all our recorded history has any beast breached it. That faith must carry us now."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

And then-

KATHUD!

CRACK!

Dozens of heads snapped upward.

This time, the crack wasn’t faint. A long, glowing fracture bloomed across the top of the barrier, twisting like a serpent of light.

Gasps erupted.

Some elves collapsed in horror. One fainted where he stood, foam bubbling at his lips.

Outside, the Nightral’s massive form watched the crack spread- and smiled like a giant devil.

"Finally... dinner is served."