SWNOVELXO Chapter 13: BELATED ENTRANCE
CHAPTER 13 : "Belated Entrance"
The minutes ticked by, the Elite Guards nowhere in sight. The king's patience snapped.
With a resolute gaze, he strode to the throne room's arsenal and grasped the hilt of a majestic sword. Its black and red blade seemed to drink in the light.
The guards and advisors gasped in unison.
"Isn't that... the Legendary Dadao?" one whispered.
"It's said to hold the bones of dragons within its steel," another breathed.
Councilor Marcellus's gaze lingered on the throne room's entrance, a calculating glint in his eye. "So, the king hid the Legendary Dadao in plain sight," he thought to himself. "Who would have suspected it was here, vulnerable yet secure, hidden beneath our very feet, no wonder he's always there in the throne room."
A subtle smile spread across his face as he pondered the implications. "I wonder if there are more secrets, more powerful artifacts concealed within these walls."
Marcellus's footsteps were deliberate and quiet as he made his way toward the throne room, his mind racing with possibilities.
"As a member of the King's Council, I have a duty to uncover the truth," he justified to himself. "And perhaps, just perhaps, I'll uncover more than just secrets."
—--
King Arin's voice boomed, "Thrain, stop now or else!" But his words fell on empty air. Thrain was nowhere to be seen.
The flames raged on, intensifying as they mixed with the air. Cracks spread through the stone floor, creeping toward the throne room.
Marcellus, still inside, screamed as the walls began to crumble. "No! My lord, help!" He clutched a mysterious item in his hands.
King Arin stood unmoved, his eyes cold with disdain. "That conniving snake," he muttered to himself. "He thinks he can deceive me? I've always known his true nature."
The throne room's collapse accelerated, stones crashing down around Marcellus. His cries were drowned out by the deafening roar.
King Arin turned away, his expression unyielding. "Let the treachery be buried." He walked away, leaving Marcellus to his fate.
As King Arin walked away, he knew the throne room's collapse would not compromise the entire castle's structure. The ancient architects had designed the throne room as a self-contained, reinforced chamber, ensuring the king's seat of power remained secure.
However, the destruction would still have far-reaching consequences. The castle's eastern wing, including the throne room, would be rendered inaccessible. The symbolic heart of the kingdom, where monarchs had ruled for generations, lay in ruins.
…
The other council members had fled in terror, abandoning King Arin to face the inferno alone. He grasped the Legendary Dadao, its blade shimmering as he activated its ancient power.
With a resolute cry, King Arin struck at the flame tornado, aiming directly at Thrain. The Dadao sliced through the flames, slamming into Thrain with unyielding force.
But instead of obliterating him, Thrain was shielded by majestic red wings that materialized from nowhere. The wings glowed with a fierce, protective energy.
Though protected, Thrain's body still suffered the brunt of the attack. He stumbled back, wounded and bleeding.
The Pyrope mode dissipated, leaving Thrain sitting amidst the smoldering ruins. His chest heaved, and his eyes widened in shock.
"I did this?" Thrain wondered, his voice barely above a whisper. He gazed at his blood-soaked hands, then at the destruction surrounding him.
Surprisingly, he didn't feel remorse or horror. Instead, a sense of detachment settled over him, as if he was observing the chaos from afar.
Thrain's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "What am I capable of?" he thought, a thrill of curiosity mixing with the shock.
The red wings still lingered, their faint glow surrounding Thrain like an aura. King Arin stood frozen, the Dadao still pulsing with power, his eyes locked onto his son with a mix of shock and trepidation.
Memories long buried surfaced in the king's mind. His father's words, passed down through generations of kings, echoed in his thoughts: "The Great Hero, who vanquished the dragon, bore wings like these...the mark of the Legendary Phoenix."
King Arin's gaze bore into Thrain, searching for answers. "What does this mean?" he thought, his mind racing with the implications.
For the first time in years, Thrain saw a flicker of emotion in his father's eyes - a glimmer of wonder, of awe, and perhaps even fear. But it vanished as swiftly as it appeared, leaving only the familiar mask of indifference.
An oppressive silence hung between King Arin and Thrain, father and son locked in a wordless standoff. The Dadao, still pulsating with energy, seemed to hum in anticipation. Thrain's crimson wings remained unfolded, their fiery glow casting eerie shadows on the walls.
The castle's halls, once bustling with activity, were now deserted. The servants and courtiers had fled in terror, seeking refuge from the unfolding drama. Only Lynx remained, a silent observer to the tense confrontation.
The guards, once steadfast and loyal, lay unconscious, overcomed by Thrain's power . The air was heavy with tension, the outcome of this confrontation hanging precariously in the balance.
King Arin's eyes never wavered from Thrain's, his expression a mask of conflicting emotions. Thrain's gaze, steady and unwavering, met his father's, the wings on his back fluttering softly, like a challenge.
Thrain rose to his feet, his patience exhausted. "Fath—"
But before he could continue, blue flames engulfed him, their gentle warmth soothing his battered body. The red wings on his back dissipated, disappearing into nothingness.
King Arin's eyes widened in astonishment. "So Gunther wasn't lying," he thought to himself. "The Blue Flames of Revival... a myth no more."
The blue flames still danced around Thrain, mending his wounds, when a deafening boom shook the air. The sound seemed to rip through the shadows themselves, heralding the arrival of a figure shrouded in darkness.
A silhouette emerged, its presence slicing through the fading light of the blue flames. Clad in ebony armor, the stranger's face remained hidden behind a helmet's dark visage. His eyes gleamed like pyrope, burning with an inner fire.
With swift, economic movements, the figure ensnared Thrain in chains that seemed forged from the very darkness itself. The metal links bit deep, extinguishing the last wisps of blue flame.
Thrain strained against the bonds, but they held fast, nullifying his struggles. His powers, once raging like a tempest, were now sealed, trapped beneath the cold, unforgiving metal. The metal links bit deep, extinguishing the last wisps of blue flame.
As the stranger's hand grasped the chains, it trembled, betraying a flicker of unease. In response, blue electricity crackled to life, coursing through the metal bonds. Thrain's body convulsed, his muscles spasming as the shocks coursed through him.
"You arrived too late," King Arin thundered, his voice echoing through the hall. "Unshackle my son!" he commanded, authority and urgency etched in every word.
"By your command, Your Majesty," the armored figure replied, its low, gravelly voice carrying across the open grounds.
The chains fell away, releasing Thrain from their electrified hold. He dropped to his knees, his gaze locked onto the mysterious figure.
Five more ebony-clad figures emerged from the darkness, their presence a seamless, ominous extension of the first. Each pair of eyes blazed with pyrope intensity, casting an unearthly glow across the surrounding landscape.