Chapter 69 – The Cult of Chaos
Back on Earth.
The Hunters' HQ pulsed with quiet tension. In the grand meeting hall, every major figure was present.
Liora stood at the center, tapping her finger against the circular table. Her gaze, cold and precise, swept the room.
> "Good… everyone's here. Let's begin."
Around the table, familiar faces lined up: Lya, Nova, Valor, Ryn, Annabelle, Béatrice, Marie, Ethan, Arthur Pendragon, Drake, Zarion, Valen — and finally Naël, newly returned, prompting a ripple of admiration (and envy).
Liora spoke, her voice sharp and humorless.
> "The situation is critical. A new cult has emerged."
A heavy silence fell.
One young hunter dared raise a hand.
> "I thought Naël had wiped out all the cults in the country?"
Naël, arms crossed, replied with a half-smile.
> "That's done. But some weeds have a nasty habit of growing back."
Liora nodded.
> "This time, it's different. The cult is recent… and according to our intel, it may be backed — directly or indirectly — by one of the major guilds."
Valor frowned.
> "Wait… I thought we were the biggest guild in the world?"
> "No, Valor," Liora replied.
> "We're one of the four global guilds. The others aren't amateurs."
She summoned a hologram in the center of the table: four emblems spun slowly.
> "Ours: the Black Eclipse." (A crescent pierced by a sword.)
> "The Eternal Ouroboros, from the Golden Continent — led by the so-called 'Dragon Sage.'"
> "The Astrian Veil, divine mercenaries who refuse to rank their members."
> "And the oldest: the Northern Pantheon, veterans of celestial wars."
A murmur rippled through the room. Béatrice and Marie exchanged a worried glance.
> "If one of these guilds is backing a cult, we're sitting on a political bomb," said Marie.
> "Exactly." Liora placed her hands on the table. "These guilds have a non-aggression pact. I can't strike without proof — or we risk triggering a global war between hunters."
Arthur sighed wearily.
> "So let me get this straight: someone's playing with fire… and we have to figure out who without lighting the match."
Lya nodded.
> "I've scoured the networks, tracked the rumors: this cult worships a 'Lord of Chaos.' But the exact name remains unknown."
Zarion raised an eyebrow.
> "Lord of Chaos? That name alone is a flashing red warning sign."
Ryn, grim, added:
> "They don't just pray. Recent reports mention sacrifices — adults, and worse: children."
Naël slammed his fist on the table.
> "Children?! Those bastards have no limits!"
Béatrice lowered her head, voice trembling.
> "Poor innocents… their souls shattered in the name of a false god."
Silence fell again, heavy as a funeral bell. Annabelle, until now silent, stared at the hologram with a chilling gaze. Ethan, beside her, clenched his fists.
Nova spoke up, sharp and biting:
> "We wait for them to raise an army? No. We infiltrate. We trace the chain — quietly. We find proof. Then we strike fast."
Valen, arms crossed, glanced at Elyonna, miniature and perched on his shoulder.
> "Got any ideas?"
> "You serious? I'm a sword, not a database," she snapped.
> "What if you were both?"
> "Keep talking and I'll stab your shoulder for real."
Lya groaned.
> "Even weapons have attitude problems now."
Drake, ever pragmatic, raised a hand.
> "Commander, do you have a concrete plan?"
Liora straightened, cut through the confusion with a glance, and activated the holographic map: Earth, marked with four red dots.
> "Plan: coordinated infiltration. No assault. No alarms.
Nova, Lya, Valor — you head to the Golden Continent.
Arthur, Béatrice — you take the North.
Naël, Zarion, Valen — I want you in Astria.
And me?" Liora turned, cold as steel. "I'll deal with Ouroboros personally."
Valen smirked, always ready with a quip.
> "A silent war? I love suspense. And coffee."
Zarion murmured slyly:
> "Well… at least we know we're risking our necks. When's vacation again?"
Lya shot him a glare.
> "When you stop flirting with death."
> "Too late. We're already married," he whispered with a grin.
Liora snapped her fingers. The red dots lit up.
> "If one of these guilds is guilty, we'll bring the proof — and then… even the gods will regret letting those fanatics breathe."
A chill swept through the assembly. The promise was clear. The threat, unmistakable.
Chapter 70 – "The Wings of Astria"
Astria.
A city suspended above the clouds, radiant, almost unreal.
Towers of gold and crystal soared into the heights, floating bridges linked temples, and stone angels guarded the gates.
A paradise… or at least, the perfect illusion of one.
Valen, Naël, and Zarion walked along the main skybridge.
Around them, silver-armored guards watched every step — silent, wary.
> "Charming welcome," muttered Zarion, hands in his pockets.
> "Shut it," Naël replied. "We're not here to spark a diplomatic incident."
> "Me? Never. I only provoke the wrong people."
> "So… everyone," Valen sighed.
Elyonna, perched on Valen's shoulder, let out a long breath.
> "Three legends on an infiltration mission, and none of you can stay discreet."
> "I'm trying," Valen said with a crooked smile. "It's just that my natural charm betrays me."
> "You mean your stupidity," Elyonna snapped.
A soldier from Astria approached, his aura making the air tremble.
> "Name and affiliation."
> "Diplomatic mission. Authorized by Commander Liora," Naël replied, presenting a black badge.
The soldier bowed slightly, but his gaze lingered on Valen a second too long.
> "I know, I'm gorgeous. Move along," Valen said with a grin.
---
They entered the high city.
All around, elite hunters trained on floating platforms.
The insignia of the "Astrian Veil" shimmered in the wind — silver wings crossed by a line of pure energy.
> "They call these mercenaries? Looks more like a celestial army," Zarion whistled.
> "Worse. They choose their wars," Naël replied.
> "And apparently, they chose the wrong one," Valen murmured.
They stopped before a massive arch carved with ancient inscriptions.
Above it, a name: Sanctuary of the Twelve Vows.
Elyonna vibrated faintly.
> "I sense strange magic… old. Something's hidden here, Valen."
> "Yeah. And whatever it is… doesn't want to be found."
---
In front of an inverted cathedral, a man with golden wings awaited them.
Tall, cold, almost unreal.
> "Welcome to Astria. I am Seraphiel, right hand of the High Guard. Your arrival is an honor."
> "Yeah, an honor. They even rolled out the white tablecloth," Naël muttered.
Seraphiel smiled without warmth.
> "Come. The Council awaits."
---
The Council chamber was blinding.
Stained glass windows cast golden light on impassive faces.
Ten figures sat around a glowing circle.
All… except one.
One empty chair, marked with a strange symbol — three interlocking circles.
The same symbol carved into the corpses of the Chaos cult.
> "Well well. One angel missing," Valen remarked.
> "Archangel Lysandra is on a spiritual mission. She will return… when the heavens decide," a councilor replied.
> "Spiritual mission, huh? Nice way of saying 'she vanished,' right?" Naël retorted.
Silence fell instantly.
Seraphiel frowned.
> "Your words are reckless, hunter."
> "No. Realistic. I've seen enough cults to know when something stinks beneath the roses."
Valen placed a hand on Naël's shoulder.
> "Easy. We're not here to fight."
> "Not yet."
---
Zarion, lingering at the back, approached a statue of an angel.
A crack ran through the marble… and inside, an eye. Alive.
> "Okay… these statues are watching. LITERALLY."
> "Excuse me?"
> "They have eyes! One blinked at me!"
> "Zarion, if you ate something weird again—"
> "I'm telling you, they moved!"
Valen touched the base of the statue.
> "This isn't a statue. It's a living seal. A form of divine guard… or worse."
Seraphiel stepped closer.
> "Astria protects its secrets."
> "Or locks them away," Valen replied.
---
In their temporary quarters, Valen gazed out over the city.
The angels sang. The towers pulsed.
And yet… a subtle pressure lingered. Almost human.
> "Naël, you feel that?"
> "Yeah. An inverted aura. It feels hollow."
> "Because they're blessed by something other than light."
> "The cult?"
> "Or worse. Someone's pulling strings from above."
Zarion entered, tense.
> "I heard rumors. The 'Lord of Chaos' was seen… in Astria."
> "You mean he's here?"
> "No. That he was here."
Valen stared at the sky.
> "Astria forgot what it is. A city of light built on the ashes of lies."
> "So what do we do?"
> "We dig. Until we find what they're hiding… even if it's a god."
---
Meanwhile, at Black Eclipse HQ.
Liora watched the aura flows of the four teams.
Béatrice entered.
> "You didn't tell them everything, did you?"
> "No. Because the truth… would've broken them before the fight even began."
> "And you?"
> "Me? I've got nothing left to lose."
---
Back in Astria.
Night fell, and the city lit up with floating runes.
> "Comms are down. Someone's jamming our signal," Zarion said.
> "They were expecting us," Naël murmured.
A voice echoed.
> "Welcome to Astria, hunters of the Eclipse. I hoped Liora would send dogs worthy of her name."
A figure stepped forward.
White armor. Golden eyes. Twelve wings of energy.
Elyonna trembled.
> "Impossible… that's a Seraph."
Valen gripped his sword.
> "Great. No time to sightsee — we're already facing a boss."
The Seraph raised his hand.
The runes ignited, forming a perfect circle.
> "May the Cult of Chaos bless your recklessness. You will die for your lies."
Valen smiled, a wild gleam in his eyes.
> "Bad line. You just signed your death warrant."
---
High above the temple, Seraphiel watched the city.
A priest knelt before him.
> "Lord Seraphiel, the intruders are in place. Shall we activate the Rite?"
> "No. Not yet. First, I want to know… if that boy with the star-born gaze is truly the one the Cult awaits."
The evening light shattered across his wings.
And for a moment, his shadow traced a dark, ancient symbol — the mark of Chaos.
Chapter 71 – "The Gods of the North"
The northern wind howled—icy, sharp as a blade.
Beneath a grey sky, the mountains of the Pantheon rose, unmoving since the dawn of time.
Arthur, hood up, led the way, followed by Béatrice and two scouts.
Their footsteps echoed across the snow.
> "Charming place," Arthur quipped.
— "If you enjoy freezing to death, sure," Béatrice replied.
— "I'm trying to stay positive."
— "Save your optimism for when a titan charges you."
She gestured with her hand: the ice crystals around them began to float, forming a barrier.
The cold here wasn't natural.
It breathed something older.
Something divine.
> "The Pantheon," Béatrice murmured. "Hunters call this place the 'Resting Ground of Fallen Gods.'"
Arthur placed a hand on the wall of a half-buried temple.
The runes glowed faintly, as if watching them.
> "This is where it all began. The first celestial wars, the pacts between humans and gods… and the betrayals."
Béatrice nodded slowly.
> "And this is where Liora wants us to find answers."
---
Elsewhere, in another plane,
Liora watched the scene through a water mirror in her command chamber.
Her breath formed a faint mist.
She wasn't alone.
> "Still watching everything, huh?" said a deep voice.
Liora didn't turn.
> "I told you not to appear without permission, Architect."
A tall, hooded figure stood in the shadows.
His eyes—two glowing fissures—seemed to pierce through reality.
> "And I told you I find rules amusing."
— "You find tampering with the balance of realms amusing."
The Architect smiled.
> "Balance… you still believe it exists? Look around, Liora. Your hunters walk through ruins even gods dare not face.
The Cult of Chaos wasn't born of a mistake. It was born of a void."
Liora stared at him, cold.
> "And you? Do you fill that void—or deepen it?"
Silence.
Then the Architect shrugged.
> "Let's say… I build over it."
---
Back in the North.
Arthur and Béatrice entered the main temple.
Colossal statues lined the nave, depicting forgotten entities: the Northern Primordials.
Names erased. Faces buried in frost.
Suddenly, a sound.
A deep pulse.
Then a voice—hoarse, echoing from the sanctuaryals… here?"
Arthur drew Excalibur.
Béatrice activated her radiant cross.
A shadow formed between the columns.
A towering figure, draped in chains and ice.
> "I… recognize that light. Liora… she still lives?"
Béatrice narrowed her eyes.
> "You know her?"
The entity stepped forward slowly.
Its face was hidden behind a fractured helm.
Its eyes burned with an ancient blue.
> "Long ago… I was one of her allies. Before the Fall of the First Throne."
Arthur tightened his grip on his sword.
> "That's impossible. All gods of the First Throne vanished."
> "Vanished? No. Banished.
And if you're here… it means one of them is awakening."
---
The ground shook.
Crimson fissures of light snaked beneath their feet.
Béatrice looked up—symbols of the Cult of Chaos etched themselves into the walls.
> "Arthur… it's a trap."
> "No."
The entity's voice rang out, resonant.
— "It's a message."
The temple suddenly opened, revealing a vortex of black energy that sucked in snow and stone.
A female voice rose—clear, distant—
Liora's, projected through the northern winds.
> "Béatrice, Arthur… fall back. You're touching the First Root."
Arthur grimaced.
> "The First Root of what?"
Through the water mirror, Liora clenched her jaw.
> "Of Chaos."
---
Within the vortex, something stirred.
A massive hand—made of shadow and flame—unfurled slowly.
The entity stepped between them and the abyss, chains rattling.
> "Go! This seal should never have been broken!"
Arthur hesitated.
Béatrice grabbed his arm.
> "We're leaving. Now!"
They crossed the threshold just as the temple erupted in a wave of scarlet energy.
The mountains trembled.
And in the echoes of the wind, one phrase rang out—deep, distant:
> "The First Throne returns."
Chapter 72 – "The Blood of Oaths":
---
Astria, deep night.
The runes floated like frozen fireflies in the ether.
The battle had left invisible scars — in the air, in their souls.
Valen, Naël, and Zarion walked slowly through the Sanctuary's corridors.
The Seraph had vanished… but his aura still clung to the walls.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
> — "He's gone… or still watching us?" murmured Zarion.
> — "Both, probably," Naël replied.
> — "I don't like glowing people who judge."
> — "You don't like anyone," Valen sighed.
> — "Wrong. I like me. And Elyonna, when she's asleep."
Elyonna, perched on his shoulder, growled:
> — "I never sleep. I watch you. And I judge you."
Silence fell.
Even the walls seemed to hold their breath.
---
They reached a sealed door.
Twelve circles carved into the stone.
A symbol at the center: three crossed wings, stained with red.
The floor pulsed gently, as if something beneath was breathing.
Valen stopped.
> — "The Council lied to us. This isn't a sanctuary. It's a prison."
Naël touched the stone.
It vibrated.
A whisper escaped — a broken female voice.
> — "Lysandra…" Béatrice breathed through the earpiece.
> — "You hear it too?" asked Arthur.
> — "Yes. She's calling."
Zarion stepped closer, frowning.
> — "It's not a voice. It's a memory. She's not speaking… she's bleeding."
---
In the command chamber, Liora stood abruptly.
The water mirror had turned red.
The aura flows twisted, as if the fabric of the world bent.
> — "The blood of oaths…" she murmured.
> — "You knew Lysandra was here," said Béatrice.
> — "I suspected. But I couldn't be sure."
The Architect reappeared, like a shadow in the fog.
His gaze was graver than usual.
> — "You send your hunters into the depths of lies. You think they'll emerge unscathed?"
> — "I believe they're the only ones who can survive the truth."
> — "Or carry it."
Liora didn't answer.
But her fist clenched.
---
Back in Astria.
The door opened with a breath.
Inside, a circular chamber bathed in black light.
The walls were covered in carved oaths — names, pacts, betrayals.
At the center, suspended in a sphere of energy: Lysandra.
Her wings were broken.
Her body marked with runes.
Her eyes… empty.
> — "By the heavens…" Naël whispered.
> — "Is she alive?" asked Zarion.
> — "She's… somewhere in between," Valen replied.
Elyonna vibrated.
> — "This isn't a prison. It's a ritual. They're transforming her."
Valen stepped closer.
His sword vibrated, as if it recognized the energy.
> — "This isn't pure Chaos. It's… a blend. Someone's tampering with the foundations."
Naël knelt beside the sphere.
> — "Lysandra… if you can hear me, resist."
---
A rune lit up.
Then another.
Then all of them.
The chamber shook.
The carved oaths faded one by one.
A voice rose — deep, multiple, ancient.
> — "The Oath is broken. Chaos demands its due."
Chains of energy surged from the floor, trying to bind Lysandra.
Valen drew his sword.
> — "We're getting her out. Now."
Naël placed his hand on the sphere.
It burned.
But Lysandra opened her eyes.
> — "Too late… he's already here."
---
High above the temple, Seraphiel watched the scene.
His gaze was empty.
His shadow… no longer human.
A priest approached, trembling.
> — "Lord… the Rite is nearly complete."
Seraphiel didn't answer.
But his wings slowly unfurled, revealing a black, ancient symbol — that of Chaos.
> — "The First Throne returns. And this time… he won't be alone."