Chapter 13 — The Eastern Throne and the Western Blade
The sky above Calwyn's former territory was veiled in ash. The clouds seemed to carry the weight of spilled blood, and the land itself felt cursed—soaked in the screams of the dead. The days that followed the tournament's end were marked by a ghostly silence. No more festivities. No more laughter. No more life.
And yet, a new era had just begun.
Ishi Crush now sat on Calwyn's golden throne, in a hall blackened by soot and coal. He had not restored it. He had not cleansed it. He had left it as it was—a witness to the judgment he had exacted on his enemies.
The corpses had vanished, turned to dust. But the walls still spoke. Scarred by blades, split by spells, scorched by the aura of the Abyss. An oppressive atmosphere hung over the capital of the East—now renamed Necralys by Ishi's decree.
The city had changed. The surviving populace—beggars, slaves, orphans—had been allowed to stay. Ishi did not rule through mercy, but through pragmatism. He offered them security… in exchange for absolute obedience.
The city walls were reinforced. Statues of unknown obsidian warriors stood tall in the plazas. The golden banners were torn down, replaced with deep red flags, embroidered with unfamiliar symbols.
The name Ishi Crush was no longer a whisper. It was a presence. A title. A legend. A threat.
And far away, in the lands still loyal to the fallen heroes, fear began to bloom.
Northern Territory — Bravonn Fortress
The news arrived on the back of a black falcon. The message was short, but its content chilled every lord present to the bone.
"The Hero Calwyn is dead. Killed by Ishi Crush, the Revenant of the Abyss. The tournament ended in slaughter. He now rules the East."
The Council of Heroes was immediately convened. Not all of Ishi's former companions were present, but their representatives were. Kaelthorn Dreiss, Darian Voss, and Sylas Arvendel did not speak. They sat frozen, as if their past had returned in the form of a bloodthirsty specter.
"...We have to stop him," a captain whispered.
"With what?" another snapped. "He killed Calwyn like he was nothing. We never even saw it coming."
Then a name rose among the murmurs.
Sillas.
Holy Kingdom of Lumina
Far to the south, a light remained—a hope many now clung to: Sillas Vaelis, known as the Blessed Sword of the New Cycle.
Young, but already revered across the kingdom, she had been trained by the greatest masters, protected by the Church, blessed by the World Tree, and wielded a power near-divine.
Her long silver hair, the holy sword Seraphin, and her radiant aura made her the perfect heroine to face the man returned from the Abyss.
When news of the massacre reached Lumina, she said nothing. Then she rose, walked to the sanctuary, and knelt before the ancient priests.
"I will cleanse the East. Ishi Crush will fall."
Her departure was set for the next morning.
But what she did not know… was that every step she took was already known.
Necralys — The Black Quarters
Lysa returned from her espionage mission—three days disguised as a pilgrim in the central lands. Her walk hadn't changed, but her eyes had. They now carried the weight of a successful mission… and the dread of an uncertain future.
She entered the throne room and knelt before Ishi.
"My king. News is plenty. The old heroes hide… but one heroine is coming."
Ishi barely lifted his chin.
"Sillas. I already know."
"She plans a direct assault. She thinks you're alone. That your forces are scattered. That your power is unstable."
A faint smile crossed Ishi's lips.
"Perfect. Let her come. I want her to see what this world has become."
He stood. Outside, in the rebuilt streets, citizens stopped as he passed. Not out of admiration—but from reverent fear. Lysa followed, like his shadow.
The Eastern territory was no longer dead. It had become a bastion—shaped by pain and order.
Homeless children were taken in and trained as scouts. Criminals judged and reformed into soldiers. The old elites were replaced by loyalists handpicked by Lysa.
Watchtowers now dotted the hills. Underground tunnels enabled retreat or ambush. And most of all… ancient rituals had been carved into stone.
Forbidden rituals.
Each night, Ishi entered a sealed chamber, meditating, speaking to voices only he could hear. Spirits of war. Whispers of the Abyss.
He was no longer just a man. He was slowly becoming… something more.
Holy Kingdom — On the Road
Sillas rode hard, her guard at her side. Her gaze was steady—but her heart beat faster than usual.
"What do you truly know about him?" asked a voice.
It was Captain Oren, her right hand.
"All I've read in the archives. Forgotten hero. Brilliant strategist. Falsely accused. Dead… then returned."
"And you think you can kill him?"
"I'm not here to kill a man. I'm here to strike down a demon."
She tightened her grip on Seraphin, which glowed with white light. The sky before her darkened. She knew that soon… she would face the man History tried to erase.
Return to Necralys — End of Chapter
Ishi stood atop the highest tower, the wind tugging at his black cloak. At his feet, Lysa handed him a map.
"They're coming from the south. Two days at most."
"I want every troop ready. None in the streets. Let the enemy believe I am alone."
He tapped the parchment with a finger.
"And you, Lysa… I want you to watch this Sillas closely. I want to know if her soul is pure—or just another pawn in the old heroes' game."
"As you command."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
The Abyss never sleeps.
And soon… even the light will be forced to flee.