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The Legacy of Shadows
In the dead of night, beneath a sky cloaked in endless darkness, the Obsidian Covenant stirred.
Far from the burning remnants of the small town, in a fortress unseen by the world, figures gathered. Hooded, masked, and nameless—warriors, mages, assassins, and scholars—each bound by an oath older than any empire.
At the heart of the gathering, atop a throne of blackened stone, sat a figure cloaked in abyssal mist. Their presence was suffocating, an existence that defied mortal comprehension.
Before them, a kneeling messenger—one of their own, returning from the ruins of the failed assault.
"The town was lost," the messenger reported, voice steady but laced with tension. "The scouting party was… erased."
A silence deeper than death filled the room.
A second figure, seated at the council's right, leaned forward, fingers drumming against an ancient tome. Their silver eyes gleamed beneath the hood.
"Erased?" The voice was smooth, calculating. "Not slaughtered. Not killed. Erased."
The messenger nodded stiffly. "No bodies were left to retreat. No witnesses. Whoever struck… they didn't want to be known."
The leader of the council tilted their head slightly, the abyssal mist swirling more violently around them.
"The boy knows too much," they murmured. "Far more than he should at this stage."
The silver-eyed figure exhaled, amused. "Azrael Kaelthorne. We overlooked him. A mistake."
A third voice, grating and filled with restrained fury, spat out, "We should correct that mistake."
The leader was silent for a moment, as if pondering something beyond their surroundings. Then, they spoke—softly, but with an authority that shattered all further debate.
"Not yet."
The room stilled.
They raised a single gloved hand, dark magic curling around their fingertips.
"Azrael Kaelthorne is not the threat. Not yet. His presence is… an anomaly. One that must be studied. A pawn does not become a king overnight."
A pause.
"And yet… he is no mere pawn."
Their voice lowered into something colder.
"The gods have remained silent for too long. Perhaps this… is their first move."
A ripple of unease passed through the gathered elites.
"Then we will watch him." The silver-eyed one smiled beneath their hood. "And if he becomes an obstacle… we will remind him why the world forgot us."
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Unraveling the Unknown
Azrael Kaelthorne stood in his war tent, eyes scanning over a newly drawn map.
The southern wastelands. The fortress that should not exist. The enemy that was never meant to appear this early.
His fingers traced the edges of the parchment, deep in thought.
Why now?
The timeline had already begun to shift, but this was beyond mere deviation. The Obsidian Covenant—if that's who they were—was supposed to reveal itself much later.
Before now, they had been ghosts. Whispers in the dark.
Now?
Now they were testing him.
He exhaled sharply, golden eyes narrowing.
The attack on the town wasn't random. It was calculated.
And worse—someone had been watching him.
He had felt it. That lingering presence, just out of reach.
Which meant his next move had to be just as calculated.
"How much time until the nobles begin their own schemes?" he asked aloud.
A shadow moved in the corner of the tent—one of his spies. "Some have already begun, my lord. They see your rise as a threat."
Azrael smirked. "Then they are correct."
The spy hesitated before adding, "There are rumors… of disappearances. People vanishing from the noble districts. No bodies. No ransom demands."
Azrael's smirk faded.
Not just soldiers, then.
The Covenant was moving inside the empire itself.
That meant two things:
One—they were embedded far deeper than he had assumed.
Two—his own people were now at risk.
He clenched his jaw.
The nobles were a problem. The Covenant was a bigger problem.
And all of it was happening while Elaris prepared for her trial.
He had to act. Now.
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A Step into the Abyss
That night, Azrael left the war camp alone.
Not as a noble. Not as a commander.
But as a hunter.
The fortress in the wastelands existed. That much was certain.
But he wouldn't send his knights, or his mages. No army. No spectacle.
If the Covenant wanted to move in the shadows—then so would he.
With Necrilith at his side and the System silent in his mind, he vanished into the dark.
And in the distance, silver eyes watched him go.
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To Be Continued…
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