Night had fallen over the Valley of Spirits, and the sky was drenched in blackness. Kiron knelt at the foot of the Exiled Mountain, pressing his hand against the searing earth. The ground breathed—whispering ghosts of the past in every tremble. “The shadows are watching you, Kiron…” the voice inside him murmured. “But you're no longer just a witness. You are becoming the master of shadows.” By his side stood Belis, her eyes locked onto the horizon where wind carried the scent of ash and ruin. Prince Lorven’s treacherous army was drawing near. Around the Sacred Mountain, the forces of darkness no longer hid — they marched. “Time is running out,” Belis said. “If the final scroll of the Book of Light is captured… the world may never wake again.” Kiron bowed his head. The wound in his hand still bled, not just blood—but something deeper. During the Dark Magic Circle ritual from Chapter 6, one of Zahadran’s cursed arrows had pierced his very essence. Now, with every heartbeat, the shado...
The King of Shadows by Ayseb – Kurşunkalem The night had swallowed even its own silence. The moon cast shadows onto the stone floor of the throne hall, where a king sat alone, cloaked in gold-threaded robes heavy with gray weariness. He did not reach for his sword. Not tonight. “Did the throne survive… or am I all that remains?” he whispered. The hall echoed back, empty as always. His name had long been forgotten. Now, he was only known as: The King of Shadows. Once praised for his justice, he had become the prisoner of his own wars. His orders still echoed in the palace walls, but only memories obeyed now. That night, the shadows whispered a dream: “Thrones are temporary, but what is written... is eternal.” And so the king laid down his sword… and picked up a pen.