CHAPTER 286: DECREE TO THE CLAN LEADERS

"Then we shall meet this threat decisively," the Emperor declared, his decision crystallizing in the silence that followed General Pellidar’s report.

"We need to take care of them as quickly as we can. Make it paramount that we nip the bud before it has a chance to bloom into a full-blown crisis." The Emperor’s eyes flashed with determination as he issued orders for immediate action to be taken against the impending threat.

"I want the generals to deal with this matter and mobilise the strongest forces, and I want reports of what’s happening in the depths."

The officials nodded, and they got up, bowing to the emperor.

Within hours, imperial couriers raced across the realm’s vast network of roads, bearing the Emperor’s seal and the urgent command for deployment.

***

In the tallest tower of the Sandornen estate of the Kaezhlar clan, Patriarch Caelum stood alone, gazing through the arched window at the gilded city below.

The evening light cast long shadows across his chamber, illuminating the ancient tomes and maps that adorned the walls.

A cool breeze whispered through the room, carrying with it the scent of mountain air and faint traces of incense.

The silence was shattered by three sharp knocks upon his door.

Before Caelum could respond, a sealed scroll materialized on his desk in a flash of blue light—the unmistakable sigil of the Emperor emblazoned upon its wax seal.

"Enter," Caelum commanded, his voice deep and resonant.

A soldier stepped inside, bowing deeply. "Patriarch, the messenger insisted this reaches you without delay."

Caelum dismissed the soldier with a wave of his hand before breaking the seal. The parchment unfurled itself, glowing faintly with enchantment.

Caelum’s face grew ashen as he read the decree.

The Depths—it was not new to him, but this time, they were going to face the two most vicious creatures to ever exist.

The combined forces of Nynthralls and Nyphorites. It was not something he had seen in his lifetime, even though he had been to the dreaded depths a number of times. But this time it was going to be different.

"So it begins," he whispered to the empty room.

***

Leagues away, across the windswept plains of the Naemarys, Segarus stood upon the battlements of the clan’s citadel. His face was set like stone as he surveyed the training grounds where his elite mages honed their skills. Though he was in his middle years, he appeared like he was still in his twenties, thanks to his magic.

Segarus was a man of in-depth arcane knowledge and also a very skilled user of the magics.

The air around him suddenly grew heavy, charged with unseen energy.

A raven appeared from nowhere, alighting upon the stone beside him. Its eyes gleamed with an intelligence that no natural bird could possess.

The raven opened its beak, and from it fell a small crystal orb that enlarged as it touched the stone. Within the orb, crimson script swirled like blood in water, forming words that only Segarus could read.

It was the decree of the Emperor, sent to Segarus alone.

Segarus’s hand instinctively tightened around the head of his cane, the enchanted runes along the head flaring briefly in response to his tension.

He was not surprised by the order, but the news of Nynthralls and Nyphorites joining hands startled him. It was not a precedent that had been set before ever in the history they knew. As much as they were aware, the two forces were like polar opposites.

If they were coming together, then it only meant doom for the empire.

"Fascinating," he muttered, "but why now?"

The crystal orb cracked and shattered, its fragments turning to dust that scattered in the wind. The raven cawed once—a sound that seemed to carry both warning and urgency—before taking flight and vanishing into the gathering dusk.

Segarus looked down at his hands, calloused from countless battles.

Then he gazed out over the clan’s estate.

He descended from the battlements with heavy steps, his mind racing with the possible threat that the two forces yielded. And more importantly, the provided opportunity.

Caelum would also be leaving the Kaezhlar clan. And his mind was already making plans for them, too.

***

Far above the mortal realm, in the crystalline spires of Illumarhen, Inadrys the All-Seeing turned his ancient gaze downward.

The Keeper of Boundaries had maintained his vigilant watch over the realms for eons, but this development—this unprecedented alliance between ancestral enemies—had captured his full attention.

The deity’s form shifted constantly as he observed, sometimes appearing as a tower of living light, other times as a being of humanoid shape with countless eyes embedded in his translucent skin.

Around him, lesser servants maintained a respectful distance, sensing their master’s unusual level of concern.

"Impossible," Inadrys murmured, his voice resonating simultaneously through multiple planes of existence.

Yet the evidence lay clear before his divine perception—hundreds of thousands of Nyphorites marching in formations dictated by Nynthrall masters, their natural antipathy somehow suppressed or manipulated. It was as if something had reached into the very essence of these races and rewritten their primal instincts.

Inadrys extended his awareness deeper, probing for the source of this unnatural alliance. Something or someone had accomplished what should have been impossible—bridging an enmity that predated the current arrangement of continents, a hatred older than most civilizations.

While he was watching below, three figures appeared behind him: Ivyona, his wife, her hair cascading over robes of midnight blue; Edor, their son, battle-hardened yet bearing his father’s contemplative eyes; and towering above them both, the imposing figure of Akurnni, ancient deity of the Shrouded Sea, his form shifting between that of a man and something far older than mankind.

"Just what are you engrossed in, husband?" Ivyona said, her voice like the gentle lap of waves against a shore. Her eyes, however, betrayed her concern as she placed a slender hand upon Inadrys’ shoulder.

The nyphorites swarmed through the dark waters—thousands upon thousands of them, their translucent bodies glowing with an eerie blue luminescence. What once had been confined to legend now filled the abyssal trenches, an army so vast it resembled a living sea beneath the sea.

"What in the heaven...?" Edor whispered, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his hip. "I’ve never seen so many before or ever."

Inadrys’ expression remained grim.

"The human kings will take care of them. It is their duty; they will."