THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Dressed in dark, elaborate robes adorned with intricate metallic designs, he wore a sash over one shoulder—a mark of distinction that only heightened his dignified presence. In front of him on the desk sat a crystal orb, though, unlike most mystical artefacts, this one held no light. It was pitch black, absorbing every hint of radiance from the room.

The man leaned back in his chair, his gloved fingers stretching out with calculated elegance. Slowly, he raised his hand toward the crystal orb, his gaze narrowing as he focused on the darkness within. Then, with a slight closing of his fingers, the crystal trembled and suddenly shattered into countless shards, scattering across the polished wood of the desk. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he processed what the broken orb signified.

"

What could have happened to my pawn?

" he wondered, a trace of disbelief mingling with irritation. It was inconceivable that he would lose his connection with the De Gors. His bonds, forged through layers of manipulation and dark pacts, should have been unbreakable.

Refusing to accept that his influence had simply dissipated, the man closed his eyes, reaching out with an ancient and sinister power, searching the ether for the faint spark of his pawn\'s life force. For a moment, his eyes glowed with a deep, eerie crimson, illuminating the shadows around him. Your next read awaits at m v|l-e\'-NovelBin.net

"

Shuan is dead,

" he muttered, his voice low but edged with a dangerous calm. "

But how…?

"

He sighed, a rare display of frustration slipping through his composed exterior. With Shuan\'s demise, a piece of his carefully-laid plans was crumbling. His connection to the De Gors had been severed, forcing him to consider a slower, more deliberate approach. He could not afford further recklessness now that his hold on the family was weakened.

Just as he pondered the adjustments he would need to make, the heavy doors to his study creaked open. He turned, one brow raised as he took in the sight of his niece standing in the doorway. Her presence brought a faint fake smile to his otherwise grave expression.

"Well, well, Mariana," he said, his voice soft yet tinged with \'warmth\'. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit to your old uncle\'s lair?"

Mariana\'s face was a picture of exasperation. "

Uncle,

I\'ve been waiting in the training hall for an hour now! You promised we\'d spar, and I\'m starting to think you\'re avoiding me."

He let out a soft chuckle as he rose, stretching his shoulders with a faint groan. "Ah, forgive me, child. It seems age is catching up to me, after all."

Mariana\'s eyes widened slightly. Despite their age difference, her uncle had always been a force to be reckoned with, a master who could outmanoeuvre and overpower her in every sparring match. For him to even hint at feeling old struck her as almost absurd.

With a defiant grin, she reached out and took his hand, her grip firm. "Not a chance, Uncle. You\'re not getting out of this one. I\'ve been training hard, and today, I\'m ready to finally beat you."

He chuckled, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes as he allowed her to lead him toward the door. "Very well, my dear. But I warn you—I won\'t be holding back."

Together, they exited the dim study, the door closing softly behind them as they made their way to the training hall, the dark mysteries and shattered crystal forgotten for now.

****

The air in the grand council chamber was tense, thick with unspoken questions and unyielding silence. Elders of the De Gor bloodline sat in a perfect circle around a polished obsidian table, each one cloaked in ceremonial robes adorned with symbols of their lineage. They watched each other with keen eyes, their expressions veiled but the weight of expectation clear. At the centre of this gathering, seated on an intricately carved throne, was Lord Hilton, the head of the De Gor family. His gaze was intense, sweeping over each elder before finally settling on the empty chair to his left—Elder Maison\'s chair, now abandoned, as if the absence itself bore the mark of disgrace.

Lord Hilton cleared his throat, the subtle sound snapping the elders to attention. "Elder La Muerte," he began, his voice carrying the quiet authority that only a leader of his stature possessed, "is it true, what you have relayed to us?"

Elder La Muerte nodded, her expression composed yet shadowed with concern. "It is, my lord. My source is beyond reproach. Shuan\'s carriage was found on the outskirts of town. Inside, they discovered a kidnapped woman, bound but alive… and beside her, a monster\'s corpse."

The elder\'s words hung heavily in the room, the implications weighing on each member present. Elder Tyron, sitting a few seats away, leaned forward, his gaze narrowed. "And Shuan himself? Was there any trace of the boy?"

La Muerte shook her head slowly, a grim look settling over her features. "No, Elder Tyron. It is as if he vanished completely, without a single trace left behind. Not a thread, not a drop of blood. The very earth seemed to swallow him whole."

A murmur rippled through the council, each elder glancing at the other as they processed this unsettling news. Shaun was Elder Maison\'s son and a king swordsman, but for him to disappear entirely... it hinted at forces beyond even their considerable influence.

Lord Hilton leaned back in his throne, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. His gaze was steely, calculating. He turned to Elder La Muerte, giving a curt nod. "Issue orders to your house. Their task is clear: investigate Elder Maison\'s estate thoroughly. No stone is to be left unturned."

Elder La Muerte nodded, bowing slightly before retrieving a sealed letter from Lord Hilton\'s desk, handing it to him. Lord Hilton held the letter up for the council to see, his voice taking on a new weight.

"It appears," he continued, "that the Archon of Warfare has formally requested the presence of the young David at their annual ceremony."

The news landed with a quiet but unmistakable impact. Elder Scrolls, a stoic figure on the far side of the table, folded his hands thoughtfully. "And you believe it wise for David to attend?" he questioned, his voice cautious. "Given the circumstances…"

Elder La Muerte\'s eyes flashed with a rare spark of pride. "David is more than capable. He has earned his position. That is why Lord Hilton bestowed upon him the title of

Spross des Banners

. He has proven himself time and time again."

A few of the elders nodded, some in reluctant agreement, others with visible approval. David was an enigma, but he had shown his worth in their ranks, and the title was not given lightly.

Lord Hilton allowed a rare, faint smile to grace his face. "Indeed. The boy has proven resourceful… and resilient. This may serve as his first true test as our representative." He gestured to a steward standing at the corner. "Summon David. He is to be informed of the Archon\'s request and the council\'s decision."

The steward nodded and left promptly, leaving the council in silence. For a brief moment, Lord Hilton\'s gaze lingered on Elder Maison\'s empty chair, and his expression hardened. There was a storm brewing, and it seemed that Shuan\'s disappearance was only the beginning. The gathering of De Gor elders sat in a solemn circle, each feeling the weight of the choices they\'d made and the delicate balance that now hung in the air.

They waited for David.

****

In the dim silence of David\'s room, a mass of swirling, liquid shadows pulsed at its center. The orb of darkness seemed alive, shifting and writhing, a presence of both foreboding and allure. Then, with a sudden eruption, a hand pierced through, fingers stretched out as a flood of light spilled from within, shattering the dark sphere into fragments that dissipated into the air like wisps of smoke.

David emerged, his bare skin shimmering with a faint golden hue, each muscle defined in ethereal light as if touched by divinity itself. He stood tall, breathing heavily, holding Luna tenderly in his arms. She lay against his chest, her own breathing shallow, her eyelids fluttering in exhaustion. David\'s body ached, his strength sapped from the transformation, but he felt an undeniable power coursing through his veins—a strength foreign yet familiar, as though he had been reborn.

The light caught his blue eyes, which now seemed deeper than the vast ocean, swirling with a vastness that defied comprehension. They sparkled with an intensity that spoke of ancient knowledge and untold depths, a gaze that could pierce through any veil.

In the air before him, a familiar, cold voice chimed. The system appeared, its words hanging in the air in radiant, flickering symbols.

"

[Ascension Complete.]"

David took a deep breath, the reality of the transformation settling within him.

"[You have ascended to \'Ember of Divinity\'],"

the system continued, its tone almost reverent, yet tinged with an awareness of the power he now possessed. David could feel it, a new energy thrumming within him, as though he had connected to the fabric of creation itself.

Exhausted but awakened to a new realm of potential, David tightened his hold on Luna.