ONLINE: Blades of Eternity-Chapter 336: THE VOIDCLOAKS

The chamber of the Ancient Elves fell into an instant hush, thick and suffocating like the silence before a lightning strike.

And then—

"The Voidcloaks?"

The voice belonged to Eryndor, the most senior among the Council, his hair pure silver and skin etched with glowing runes of ancient Elven magic. His eyes, which had seen over a millennium of Aetheris’s history, now widened in disbelief.

He slowly rose from his seat, his long ceremonial robe brushing the polished root-wood floor.

"You dare speak that name, Velyrian?" he asked with a voice tinged in thunder. "That cursed lineage was annihilated. Purged from existence alongside the banishment of Endless. The seals! The flames of purification! The records—"

"—Were incomplete," Velyrian interrupted, this time without mirth.

He no longer smiled.

"History, revered as it is, is only as true as the quill that writes it. And I’ve long suspected that some pages... were deliberately ripped out."

Gasps fluttered across the council.

Even Maeralyn, still at the threshold of the chamber, froze and turned to listen.

Another council member, Ithyllien, leaned forward, her green eyes shimmering with concern.

"But the Voidcloaks weren’t merely warriors. They were the wielders of Primordial Shadows — the ones who once stood beside the Eternals, then rebelled. Are you telling us... one survived?"

"I’m telling you," Velyrian said quietly, "that one just stole your intruder away from under your very nose. And I fear that their might be more."

He turned his gaze toward the glowing root-chandeliers above.

"And that even after all these centuries, the game between light and shadow is not over. It never was."

––––

Eirana stood in the thick brush at the outskirts of the Elven settlement, her chest rising and falling quickly, not from exertion—but tension.

The Voidcloak was still there.

It stood mere steps away, a figure wrapped in shifting shadows, yet vaguely humanoid in shape. Its body was draped in a black, skin-tight robe that rippled as if woven from living darkness. Its face was faceless, save for two soft violet flames where eyes should have been, burning with cold curiosity.

"Why are you here?" Eirana hissed, stepping back into a guarded stance. "You shouldn’t have followed me! This place is dangerous — even for you."

The creature said nothing.

It tilted its head, eerily slow, as if analyzing her emotion rather than her words.

Eirana clenched her jaw, her hand brushing against the hilt of her hidden dagger. But she didn’t draw it.

"You could’ve blown my cover," she pressed on. "And worse, you revealed yourself. The Elves now know something slipped through their defenses. If they link you to me—!"

Still, the Voidcloak said nothing.

The wind rustled gently through the leaves, casting stray beams of moonlight on the creature’s shadow-flesh. Even now, despite being in the forest, no beast dared draw near.

Eirana’s fingers twitched in frustration.

"Why? Why did you come?" she asked again, more softly now, the earlier reprimand dying into concern. "You... you shouldn’t be walking in Aetheris. Not in this age. You’re a relic of a war that nearly consumed the world."

She took a step closer.

"Why... are you here?"

And then — it finally moved.

Not by walking, but by gliding, the way mist creeps across water. It stopped before her and, without a word, raised its hand, shadowed fingers pointing in the direction of the settlement they just left.

Eirana blinked.

"You want to help?" she asked, confused. "Help us against the Dark Magi? Endless? Or is it something else... something older?"

Still, it didn’t respond. But it did something else.

From within its chest, a small fragment of dark crystal emerged — pulsing, humming with a sound older than language.

Eirana reached for it warily... then paused. Her instincts screamed to run. But something else whispered:

Trust.

Hesitantly, she touched the crystal.

And a single word echoed in her mind.

"Watchers."

She gasped and stumbled back, the echo reverberating through her bones.

But before she could process it—

A distant Elven horn blew through the forest.

A signal.

Searchers were moving.

"Damn," she muttered, snapping out of the trance. "We have to go. Now."

With practiced motion, she took hold of the Voidcloak’s arm — even though her skin shivered at the coldness of its touch — and began weaving between the trees.

As they vanished into the deeper parts of the Deadroot outskirts, Eirana couldn’t help but whisper under her breath:

"What exactly... are you?"

And somewhere behind them, deeper in the Elven settlement, Velyrian’s eyes narrowed, as if he could hear that very question in the wind.

–––––

It was a new day and the morning in the Hollow of Deadroot was eerily quiet.

Even the usual rustle of leaves seemed subdued, as if nature itself was holding its breath.

Standing before the Circle of Resonance, Kaelen, Kelvin, and Guinevere were cloaked in a mixture of nervous anticipation and calm resolve.

Across from them stood Naena, arms folded across her chest, her eyes glinting with ancient light as her gaze settled on Guinevere with particular intent.

"This trial," she began, "like I said before, is unlike the Still Earth. It burns not your skin, but your soul. Fire—true fire—doesn’t destroy. It reveals. It purifies. And the deeper you go, the closer you get to the core of what burns inside you."

She stepped closer to Guinevere, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Especially you. Don’t fight the fire, Guinevere. Don’t be afraid of it. Your brother... may have been the Fire Prince, but this flame... is yours to master. Not his."

Guinevere slowly nodded, her knuckles tightening, jaw clenched.

Without another word, the three stepped into the Circle of Resonance.

A pulse of Qi and arcane light spread from the center of the ancient stone ring.

And instantly—

They were gone.

In the next moment, the three found themselves suspended in an endless world of red skies, blackened mountains, and dancing embers. The ground beneath them wasn’t solid—just floating, jagged shards of scorched stone.

The Eternal Flames circled them like hungry spirits.

But to their surprise—it wasn’t agonizing. Not yet.

It was... introspective.

Each of them began to walk separate paths, illusions forming before their eyes.

Guinevere stood before a wide golden field under a setting sun, the air tinged with warmth. In front of her, clad in radiant crimson armor, stood a tall young man with red hair that danced like wildfire.

"You’ll never be me," he said, turning to face her with gentle eyes. "You’ll always be in my shadow, Gwen."

"I know," she whispered. "I was... afraid of that."

Then she looked at her hands—wreathed in flame. Not like her brother’s... but her own.

"But not anymore."

With clenched fists, she stepped forward—and the illusion shattered.

Meanwhile.....

Kelvin found himself in a white field soaked in blood.

In front of him lay his sister, lifeless. The wind howled with silent screams, and in the distance, a tall figure stood—his father, back turned, walking away.

"You’ll never be enough," the phantom said without turning. "You were born in sin. You brought death."

Kelvin dropped to his knees—then slowly rose.

"Then let my sins burn," he growled. "Let them forge me into a weapon."

"Because the ones who took her from me will burn worse."

The flames responded—twisting up his legs like snakes—until he welcomed them fully.

As for Kaelen....

He saw his hut again.

His mother smiling.

His father humming.

And then, the blood. The betrayal. The flames.

His mentor—Lila’s father—slain before his eyes.

Their deaths pressed into his spine like mountains.

Then the illusion shimmered—and he was alone in a storm of ash.

But faint voices echoed:

"We’re here for you, Kaelen."

"You don’t have to carry it alone."

"Let us in."

The voices of Morris. Ethan. Kelvin. Guinevere. Lila.

He reached forward, trembling, and whispered:

"Then help me... carry it."

And suddenly—each of them lit ablaze.

The world shuddered—

—and then it turned black.

A vortex of hellish flame twisted into the sky above them, swirling in infinite hues of black and crimson. The Amaterusu, the sentient core of Eternal Flames, had awoken.

It had no form, only a presence—a soul-consuming pressure that seemed to scream into their bones.

The once-guiding flames turned hostile. The ground melted beneath them. Their trials, conquered just moments ago, now looked like feeble tests compared to this divine wrath.

Kelvin screamed as the flames surged toward him.

Guinevere dropped to a knee, coughing blood, the pressure wracking her soul.

Kaelen barely held up his arms, eyes flickering from blue to gold as his mana desperately tried to shield him.

Outside the Circle, Naena’s eyes widened when she noticed that Kaelen, Kelvin and Guinevere were getting roasted instead of being purified.

"No... it’s too soon!"

Then, she steadied her breath—and shouted.

"Don’t resist it!"

Her voice echoed inside the trial.

"You must not fight the Amaterusu—embrace it! Let it judge you. Let it see who you are beneath the flame!"

Inside the vortex of suffering, Kaelen heard her. Through the agony, he forced his mind still. His heart quieted.

And then—he let go.

He lowered his arms.

And welcomed the flame.

So did Kelvin. So did Guinevere.

The Amaterusu rushed toward them—

—and instead of burning them, it fused with them.

Their clothes singed into sacred markings. Their bodies trembled, not with pain, but with overwhelming energy. Flame didn’t devour them. It bowed to them.

Back in the Hollow, the Circle of Resonance cracked.

The earth itself trembled as Lila and the others observing the trial had anxious and grim looks on their faces.

Then—

BOOM.

The three figures erupted from the center, crashing into the stone and sliding across the mossy ground.

Kelvin gasped. Guinevere blinked rapidly. Kaelen stumbled to a knee, hands seared, his eyes glowing like twin suns.

Naena was already beside them, her hands glowing with healing Qi.

"You did it..." she whispered, awe in her voice. "You faced the heart of Eternal Flame... and it didn’t consume you. It accepted you."

Kaelen raised his head, still panting.

"It... showed us who we really are."

Kelvin let out a pained grin.

"And it burned away the lies."

Guinevere clutched her chest, her flame flickering over her shoulders like a phoenix.

"I’m not in anyone’s shadow anymore," she breathed.

Naena looked at the three of them—smoke still curling from their bodies, fire still flickering beneath their skins—and she whispered to herself:

"i just hope you all will bring in a new era to this depressed world"