Chereads / The Chronicles of Drakenor / Chapter 71 - The Dark Forest

Chapter 71 - The Dark Forest

The wind howled through the jagged peaks of the northern mountains, carrying with it the icy sting of the high-altitude air. In the distance, looming like a black scar against the gray sky, stood the Dark Fortress—a structure as old as Drakenor itself. Its spires clawed at the heavens, and its thick, black stone walls seemed to absorb the light around it, casting an eternal shadow over the land.

Aric, Kael, and the remnants of their allies stood on the ridge overlooking the fortress, their faces set in grim determination. The war was far from over, and now they faced a new enemy—a sorcerer whose dark magic rivaled even Draygor's. The sorcerer had been a puppet master, manipulating events from the shadows, and now they had to face him head-on.

"We can't rush this," Kael said, his sharp eyes scanning the fortress. "It's well fortified, and who knows what kind of traps he's set."

Aric nodded in agreement, gripping the hilt of his sword. "We've come too far to fall now. We need to find a way inside without drawing too much attention."

From the back of their group, Jorath, the mage who had joined them after the fall of Eldoria, stepped forward. His face was pale, a sign of the strain he had been under from using his magic so frequently. "There are ways… ancient ways… to breach the defenses," he said, his voice tinged with weariness. "But it will require all of my strength, and even then, we must be prepared for whatever lies inside."

Aric exchanged a glance with Kael and the others. They had faced down dragons, armies, and even Draygor, but this felt different. The very air around the fortress seemed thick with dark energy, a malevolent force that sought to pull them in.

"We don't have a choice," Aric said, his voice firm. "This sorcerer has been behind everything, and if we don't stop him now, he'll finish what Draygor started."

Jorath nodded, closing his eyes as he began to chant in an ancient tongue. The ground beneath them trembled, and a thin, shimmering barrier of light formed around them, a protective shield against the dark magic that surrounded the fortress.

As they approached the massive gates of the Dark Fortress, Aric felt the weight of the sorcerer's presence pressing down on him. It was as if the fortress itself was alive, watching their every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the mountains, and the gates began to creak open on their own. A low, sinister laughter filled the air, sending chills down their spines.

"He knows we're here," Kael muttered, drawing his bow.

Aric tightened his grip on his sword. "Then let's not keep him waiting."

They moved cautiously through the gates, stepping into the vast courtyard of the fortress. The air inside was thick with the stench of decay, and the ground was littered with the bones of those who had come before them. Dark banners hung from the walls, emblazoned with the symbol of the sorcerer—a serpent coiled around a staff.

The fortress was eerily silent, save for the distant sound of water dripping somewhere within the stone halls. Every step they took echoed off the walls, making it feel as though the fortress itself was mocking them.

"I don't like this," Kael whispered, his eyes scanning the shadows. "It's too quiet."

Before Aric could respond, a flicker of movement caught his eye. From the shadows, figures emerged—warriors clad in dark armor, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. They moved silently, like wraiths, their weapons drawn.

"Get ready!" Aric shouted, raising his sword just as the first of the dark warriors charged.

The clash was swift and brutal. Aric's blade met the steel of his opponent's sword, sparks flying as they exchanged blows. These warriors were different from any they had faced before. They moved with unnatural speed, their strikes precise and deadly. Aric could feel the weight of dark magic behind each blow, making them stronger than any ordinary soldier.

Kael's arrows flew through the air, striking down several of the dark warriors, but more seemed to appear from the shadows, their glowing eyes filled with malice. The others fought valiantly beside them, but the tide of enemies was relentless.

"We need to find the sorcerer!" Aric shouted over the din of battle. "This will never end if we don't!"

Jorath, using the last of his strength, cast a powerful spell, sending a wave of light that pushed back the dark warriors for a brief moment. "The throne room," he gasped, pointing toward the massive doors at the far end of the courtyard. "He's there… waiting for us."

Without hesitation, Aric led the charge toward the doors, cutting down any warrior that stood in their way. The doors loomed before them, massive and imposing, but they knew that beyond them lay their only chance to end the sorcerer's reign of terror.

With a final push, they forced the doors open and stepped into the throne room.

The sight that greeted them was unlike anything they had ever seen. The room was bathed in a sickly green light, and at the far end, sitting on a throne made of black stone, was the sorcerer. His face was hidden beneath a hood, but his eyes glowed with an unnatural power. In his hand, he held a staff, the same serpent symbol coiled around it.

"So, you've finally come," the sorcerer said, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I've been expecting you."

Aric stepped forward, his sword raised. "This ends now."

The sorcerer chuckled, a low, sinister sound that sent chills down their spines. "Foolish boy. You think you can defeat me? I am the master of all you see. I control the very fabric of this world."

With a flick of his wrist, the sorcerer summoned a wave of dark energy, sending it crashing toward them. Aric barely managed to raise his sword in time, the force of the blast sending him stumbling backward.

But he didn't falter. This was their final battle, the culmination of everything they had fought for. And no matter the cost, they would defeat the sorcerer and end his reign of darkness.

With a roar, Aric charged forward, his sword gleaming in the dark light of the throne room.

The battle for Drakenor had truly begun.