CHAPTER 367: THE VERDANT RECKONING

Velyrian stood frozen, heart pounding, as the air in the Chamber of Verdure thickened with ancient power. Not only him, as the council—twelve elders with bark-like skin and eyes that held the history of centuries— also sat in stunned reverence, as though awakening from a dream they never believed would end.

None of them spoke. None needed to.

Because before them stood the Verdant King, the last sovereign of the Elves, Elvarion Elaranil, thought to have vanished into the ether over a thousand years ago when the Divine Tree first fell silent and he decided to go on a pilgrimage. And yet, here he was—his presence commanding, his aura boundless. The leaves woven into his living cloak shimmered with an inner light, and his blade, the Rootfang, trembled softly with the breath of nature itself.

Velyrian dropped to his knees.

"Y-Your Majesty..." he whispered, tears already stinging his eyes. "The settlement... the Labyrinth horde... the Seed—"

Elvarion raised a hand gently, and the chamber fell silent once more.

"I know, young Velyrian," he said, his voice like rustling leaves in a forest untouched by man. "I heard her weep. The Seed cries, and Aetheris groans under the weight of a coming calamity."

One of the Ancient Elves, Council Elder Myanthis, leaned forward with a hoarse breath. His bark-like fingers trembled.

"Elvarion... we bound your spirit to the heartwood when the Divine Tree fractured. This... How can you stand here?"

The King’s expression remained unreadable.

"Because the balance has shattered. And when balance dies... the forest notifies its guardian."

Outside, another explosion rocked the earth. The screams of women, children, and warriors alike echoed even into the chamber’s sacred walls. The Labyrinth creatures were tearing through their homeland—and Aron and Selene had yet to reach the Divine Grove.

Elvarion turned toward the great tree-carved doors.

"I no longer have the luxury of silence. Prepare the wardens. Summon the Verdant Guard. And bind the roots beneath this chamber—I will face those defilers myself."

The chamber erupted in movement, but Velyrian stayed kneeling, trembling at the edge of awe and fear.

"Will... will you be enough, my king?"

Elvarion turned his gaze back to him, just briefly, and smiled—not warmly, but with quiet certainty.

"A forest has no fury... until it is burned."

A wave of shrieks swept through the wind-choked glades. The Labyrinth horde—beasts with twisted sinew, rotting bone, and void-born eyes—rampaged like a black tide through the inner wards. The golden shimmer of Elven defenses had long since flickered and died.

Aron stood atop a shattered pillar, black-clad and ominous looking, his fists glowing as it pulsed in rhythm with the creatures’ snarls.

Selene hovered nearby, her pale face lit with flickering embers of chaos mana. Her dual blades weaved through the air like vipers.

"The resistance here is pathetic," she said flatly, wiping ichor from her lips. "Even the saplings are bleeding."

Aron cracked his neck, eyes turning northward—toward the heart of the Elven domain. The Divine Grove.

"Almost a shame," he said. "I thought the Ancients would at least put up a fight. But Endless was right. They’ve grown... peaceful."

He leapt from the pillar, landing amidst a dying Warden’s corpse. His fists gleamed crimson.

But just then, a tremor shook the glade.

It wasn’t from the creatures.

It came from the roots.

The ground beneath them pulsed. The trees shook, not from wind, but from something deeper—an awakening. Sap dripped in streams from bark as if the forest itself was weeping. The beasts hissed, disoriented.

And then...

A column of emerald light erupted into the sky from the Divine Grove.

It was silent—unnaturally so. No roar. No crash.

Just light—pure, ancient, and overwhelming.

The Labyrinth creatures shrieked, many of them collapsing instantly, writhing as their twisted forms began to disintegrate, unable to withstand the resonance.

Aron narrowed his eyes.

Selene flinched, shielding herself from the beam with a blood-forged sigil.

"What in the—"

And then a voice echoed through the grove, impossibly deep, yet whispering through every leaf.

"Aron and Selene of the Labyrinth... you tread upon roots older than your maker."

From the emerald light, he walked out.

Elvarion Elaranil. Cloaked in leaves, blade glowing like dawnfire, vines coiling around his feet with every step.

The forest itself moved with him.

Aron’s face twitched as he asked in shock. "So the old ghost returns."

Selene hissed beneath her breath. "Impossible... the Eternal said a while back that he vanished thousands of years ago and might have ceased to exist."

Elvarion stepped forward, and with a simple wave, hundreds of vines erupted from the ground, impaling half of the remaining beasts in a heartbeat.

Their corpses turned to mist.

Aron launched himself forward, fists raised.

But Elvarion didn’t draw his blade.

He simply raised one hand, and Aron was struck mid-air by a force that bent the very air, sending him crashing into a tree that shattered on impact.

Selene screamed and flung a barrage of chaos crescents—but the leaves around the King twisted mid-air and devoured them whole.

"You do not belong here," Elvarion said, finally drawing Rootfang. The blade sang—not with steel, but with life.

And then, the forest behind him roared.

The Verdant Guard, ten-thousand-strong, emerged from the heart of the Grove—each one riding beasts of old, wielding weapons of bark, mana, and thunder.

Elvarion’s eyes locked on Aron, who now stood, blood trickling down his mouth, a grin forming.

"So the forest has chosen war..."

"No," Elvarion replied.

"The forest has chosen justice."

Selene coughed blood and sneered. "You’re too late for justice. We’ve already torn down your gates and have already achieved close to making your race go extinct."

"But you’ve not walked past me yet," the King replied solemnly.

With a raise of his hand, ancient glyphs erupted from the ground, forming glowing silver vines that wrapped around Aron and Selene, paralyzing them. Cries of shock came from the few remaining enemies who watched the scene from the edges of the battleground.

The King’s voice lowered. "I’ll end your cursed line myself—"

But then the sky split open.

It wasn’t thunder, nor lightning. It was a tear. A jagged fissure in the very fabric of reality.

And from it, he descended.

A lone figure cloaked in swirling black and violet, landing silently on the broken marble steps before the King.

Kael Dragonyx.

His black hair now bore streaks of abyssal violet, and his once-human eyes were reptilian slits—pulsing with contained chaos. His aura oozed instability, darkness, and power that clawed at the very threads of the world. Behind him, faint translucent wings of draconic energy shimmered, curling around his frame like a deadly halo.

"Your Majesty," Kael said with a smirk, voice no longer entirely human, laced with otherworldly reverb. "Endless sends his regards."

The King didn’t move.

"Kael Dragonyx," he said, calmly. "I had hoped the whispers were wrong. That your soul had not been consumed."

Kael cracked his neck.

"I am the whisper now."

With no warning, he lunged.

The King raised his hand, and a barrier of crystalized mana surged to meet the attack, shattering upon impact. Kael’s clawed hand almost reached the King’s chest, but he vanished—reappearing above Kael with a spear of pure ancient light and cast it down like a divine bolt.

Kael sidestepped with inhuman speed, his hand crackling with Chaos Flame, and the battle exploded into life.

BOOM!!!

The sky itself trembled.

Kael Dragonyx twirled into the air, his Chaos Wings spreading wide before he unleashed a breath of searing dark flame, melting entire towers and trees in its path. The King countered by slamming his palms together and calling upon Divine Rain, drops of radiant mana descending like swords from the heavens, cleansing the corrupted fire.

But Kael wasn’t done.

"Time to meet a god’s fury," he snarled, his body twisting as he transformed—his arms stretching into scaled monstrosities, a tail bursting forth, and horns coiling around his forehead like a crown.

He had become half-dragon, and fully wrath.

The King raised his arms, chanting in the tongue of creation. The glyphs from the Divine Tree glowed across his body, and the very earth responded—rooted tendrils of the World Tree launched into the sky, wrapping around Kael like celestial chains.

ROARRR!!!

But Kael roared, shaking the heavens, and broke through them with raw force. In his hand now was his chaos-forged sword, obsidian and pulsing like a beating heart.

Steel clashed with magic. Every strike destroyed the land around them.

Kael slashed upward, carving through the forest, and the King retaliated with a beam of concentrated starfire, blinding and powerful enough to incinerate a dragon. But Kael’s corrupted dragon heart absorbed it, and he laughed.

"You’re strong, old man," Kael hissed. "But you’re not Endless."

ROARRRRR!!!!

With a savage roar, Kael shot forward, his body engulfed in a spiral of black lightning and draconic flame, punching through the King’s barrier and impaling him through the stomach with his claw.

The King gasped, blood trailing from his mouth. But he still gripped Kael’s wrist.

"You... will never rule Aetheris... We are not so easily broken."

Kael sneered and raised his sword high.

"I’m not here to break you. I’m here to erase you."

The blade fell, cutting through divine armor, bone, and fate.

And just like that...

The King of the Elves... was no more.

His body turned to dust, carried by the winds, as if the world itself mourned his passing.

And so, after that, Kael stood over the spot, panting, still in his dragonic form. Aron and Selene, released from the vines, approached cautiously.

Aron whispered, "You... really did it."

Kael didn’t answer. He turned toward the Divine Tree, its Seed glowing faintly in the distance.

"We take the Seed," Kael said coldly, wiping blood from his jaw. "And prepare to march on the humans."

His draconic wings flared open once more as the fires around the settlement intensified.

The Era of Kings was ending.

And Endless’s shadow now loomed greater than ever over the lands of Aetheris.