Return of the Mythic Bloodline-Chapter 425: Long live the Prince! Long live the Hundred Sky Mountains!
With trembling fingers, Kharos raised his hand, holding the severed head of Adam, its hollow eye sockets and twisted expression revealing the depth of the suffering he had endured before death.
The Dukes gasped upon seeing the horrifying head of Adam. Even Hector, who wished for his brother's death, could not help but feel chills at the mere sight of it. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
"M-my son..." Kharos mumbled, his eyes growing misty.
In his entire life, Kharos had only taken from others. For the first time, he experienced the pain of losing something. First, it was his close friend and knight, Rhaegar, and now his precious son, Adam.
As he silently stared at Adam's head, his grief slowly turned into anger, and then into vengeance.
The air around him stirred, his body glowing bright yellow as he shifted his piercing gaze toward the dark knight standing in the distant valley.
"H-how dare you!?" Kharos roared, bolting toward the valley, blinded by rage.
Taranis, the dark knight, drew his sword from his inventory as Kharos rushed toward him, followed closely by Hector and the five Dukes.
The silver blade of Vajra turned golden as Soulforce flowed into it like liquid.
"Sword of Thunderbane: Chapter Five: Wings of Garuda!"
With the swing of Taranis's blade, a pair of vast golden wings materialized in the sky, crackles of lightning dancing around them.
As Kharos drew closer, lightning fell from the wings like heavenly tribulation. Thunder echoed as a bolt struck him directly.
The silken robe with beautiful golden embroidery that the Emperor wore was, for the first time, damaged. His back was burnt from the lightning strike, yet he did not slow down in the slightest.
Lightning continued to strike him, yet he ignored the pain, his heart filled with pure hatred for the dark knight.
"Do you not find this whole situation familiar, Kharos?" Taranis's deep voice rumbled through the helm. "Eighteen years ago, it was I who rushed at you, blinded by rage and ignoring all the attacks coming my way just to strike you down. Now do you understand the feeling of losing someone?"
"Taranis?" Kharos muttered, recognizing the voice.
"It is you again!" he roared, his sclera turning bloodshot.
"History repeats itself, Kharos," Taranis said, his voice cold. "The stage of fate remains the same. Only the roles have changed."
"Shut your mouth! I will destroy you, Taranis!" Kharos roared, already halfway within the attack range of Wings of Garuda. The Dukes and Hector behind him could not advance due to the relentless strikes of lightning.
From his waist, Kharos drew a longsword with a golden hilt, its blade laced with a Sword Aura twice the size of the sword itself.
"Die!!!" Kharos bellowed, swinging the sword at Taranis.
Just as the sword reached Taranis's neck, a dark energy erupted from both Taranis and his horse's shadow, engulfing them completely.
"Meet you on the battlefield," Taranis whispered.
Kharos's sword struck empty air as Taranis had already vanished.
"Taranis El Thunderbane!!!!!!!" Kharos screamed at the top of his lungs, his entire body turning crimson as his blood surged in fury.
---
"Ya really pissed him," Jambavan's voice reached Taranis's ears. He had been teleported back inside the fortress walls, beside Jambavan and Vyaghra.
"That mortal was lost in vengeance," Vyaghra said, the one responsible for teleporting Taranis back. "You could have greatly injured him, if not killed him, had you unleashed your strongest attack. Why didn't you do it? You could have ended the war."
"He is not the only one burning with vengeance, Vyaghra," Taranis said, an unsettling pressure surrounding him. "How could I end things with just his death?"
Jambavan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form the words, Taranis roared in a thundering voice,
"Soldiers of the Hundred Sky Mountains! Hear the command of your Prince!"
All eyes shifted to the center of the fortress, where Taranis stood.
"The enemy is coming to attack us from all sides with an army of five million, a force fifty times greater than ours. Their overwhelming numbers are not their only advantage. They will use every underhanded trick to gain the upper hand. However...numbers have never been our strength.
Our ancestors settled and ruled the Hundred Sky Mountains for a thousand years, yet no nation dared raise their weapons against us. Do you know the reason why?"
Taranis's booming voice, laced with Soulforce, grew even louder as he continued,
"It is because the people of the Hundred Sky Mountains do not buckle or yield in the face of hopelessness. On this day, as we fight a war of certain death, we will set an example for our predecessors and carve our names into the history of Vyoman.
If any of you dares to run from the battlefield, I will behead you myself. And if heaven forbids that I attempt to flee, I command you to do the same to me!!!
Make the Azure Sun Empire face the wrath of the Hundred Sky Mountains! Make an example of them so that even the next hundred generations will think twice before betraying us!"
As soon as Taranis finished, Titan, stationed on the wall, roared,
"Long live the Prince! Long live the Hundred Sky Mountains!"
Following him, the other Sect Leaders shouted, their voices laced with Soulforce,
"Long live the Prince! Long live the Hundred Sky Mountains!"
Then, every soldier stationed in the Ironvale Fortress joined in,
"Long live the Prince! Long live the Hundred Sky Mountains!"
"Long live the Prince! Long live the Hundred Sky Mountains!"
.
.
.
The chants of a hundred thousand soldiers shook the very valleys surrounding Ironvale Fortress, their voices loud enough to reach the approaching army of the Emperor, who, in the blind fury of losing his son, had abandoned his earlier decision to wait three days to mourn Rhaegar's death.
Chills ran through the ranks of the Empire's soldiers upon hearing the thunderous chants of the Banes' army.
For a moment, they even questioned whether there were truly only a hundred thousand soldiers in the Bane army, because from their voices, it felt as though their numbers rivaled, or even surpassed, the army of the Empire.
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A/N: Enjoying the story? Don't forget to give the tickets and gift to the poor author.
