For years, Von disappeared from their lives, a painful mory that lingered like a ghost.
The Queen's heart broke anew each ti she thought of him, picturing the boy he had once been—the laughter, the mischief, the unyielding determination. She mourned not just for his absence but for the life he could have lived, the man he was ant to beco.
Even so, deep within her heart, she clung to hope. No matter how heavy the darkness weighed on him, no matter how much it sought to consu him, she believed in the resilience of his spirit.
Von's heart, she was certain, remained untainted at its core. The light within him, though dimd, had not been extinguished.
"Von . . . my son . . . ," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling with both sorrow and resolve. "I know you're still in there. The darkness may surround you, but it will never truly claim you."
As she stood amidst the turmoil of the council and the uproar of the crowd, the Queen silently prayed for her son. Von was fighting battles on all fronts—against his enemies, against the curse, and against the crushing weight of his own darkness. But she believed in him.
She had to.
For if Von could overco this, if he could rise above the darkness and reclaim the light, he would not just be a hero to himself, but a beacon of hope for all those who had been cast out, shunned, and forgotten.
=== ===
Horizon stood firm, his eyes sharp as he watched Cedrick with an expression of mild amusent. The artifact's glow had finally faded, and with it, the copy-Dracolich dissolved into a wisp of smoke, vanishing without a trace. Experience tales at empire
"Well, what now?" Horizon taunted, tilting his head mockingly. "Your little knockoff just poofed out of existence. Guess you're fresh out of tricks, huh?"
But against all odds, Cedrick remained eerily calm, a smirk spreading across his face. "Tricks? I don't rely on just one artifact. Unlike you, I've got an arsenal at my disposal. What about you? Keeping that Dracolich must've cost you a chunk of your mana, hasn't it?"
It was true—Horizon's Dracolich required a significant mana investnt, not just to summon but to maintain. Every attack it endured, every injury it suffered, demanded even more mana to keep it whole.
Cedrick's grin widened as he saw Horizon's silence. "The best thing about my artifacts? They don't drain my mana. anwhile, you're just a glorified babysitter, barely able to keep your pet standing."
His laughter echoed across the battlefield, but Horizon rely raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you an this little thing?" He gestured to his depleted mana bar with an almost theatrical casualness, then pulled a shimring, golden apple from his inventory. It was unmistakable—the fad Great Harvest Apple from the legendary Apple Tree Dragon.
Without a word, Horizon took a slow, deliberate bite.
Cedrick's confidence faltered as Horizon's HP and MP bars instantly filled to maximum. "W-What's that?!"
Cedrick shouted, stomping his foot like a frustrated child. His smirk was gone, replaced by incredulous rage.
Horizon smirked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What, you thought you were the only one allowed to bring toys to the fight?" He leaned on his blade, exuding a dangerous calm. "Let guess—your whole plan was banking on running out of mana, wasn't it?"
Cedrick's face twisted with barely contained frustration.
Horizon chuckled. "Well, too bad. Did you see the size of this apple? It's practically cheating. You'll run out of artifacts long before you make a dent in my mana pool. If I were you, I'd start thinking of a new plan."
Before Cedrick could retort, Horizon vanished in a blur, reappearing directly in front of him with his blade drawn. The speed was blinding—Cedrick barely had ti to react. With an instinctual burst of mana, he activated inst-cast, teleporting away just before Horizon's blade could claim his head.
"Not bad," Horizon remarked, spinning his blade lazily in his hand. "But running won't save you."
Cedrick's escape had bought him a mont, but he wasted no ti. With an angry cry, he activated another artifact. Instantly, five colossal sentinels materialized around him, clad in thick black thick armor.
Their imposing forms radiated an aura of nace, each standing over ten feet tall. Their stats were formidable, with two of them powerful enough to hold the Dracolich in a direct clash.
"Think I ca unprepared?" Cedrick shouted, his confidence returning. "These sentinels will crush you!"
Horizon, however, remained unimpressed. "If that's the best you've got, you're going to die," he said, his tone dripping with boredom.
Enraged, Cedrick snapped, "Keep talking! You won't be so smug when they rip you apart!"
The sentinels charged, their heavy weapons whistling through the air as they targeted Horizon. With lightning reflexes, he deflected a blow from one, angling his sword to absorb the impact and using the montum to flip backward, landing gracefully several ters away.
Two of the sentinels blocked his path to Cedrick and the flag, while the remaining three engaged the Dracolich in an intense battle. Despite its imnse power, even the Dracolich began to struggle under the relentless assault, forcing Horizon to divide his focus.
"Clever," Horizon admitted, his eyes narrowing. "But clever isn't enough."
With a sharp exhale, Horizon dashed forward again, his movents a blur. He tested the sentinels' defenses, each strike precise and probing. Their thick armor absorbed the blows, and their towering forms moved with surprising agility. But Horizon wasn't trying to overpower them—not yet. He was studying their patterns, their weaknesses.
Cedrick, watching from behind his armored guardians, sneered. "What's wrong, Horizon? Getting tired already?"
But Horizon only smirked. "Tired? Not even close." He sheathed his blade and took another bite of the golden apple. The casual gesture sent a clear ssage: I have all the ti in the world.
In truth, Horizon was waiting—biding his ti for the perfect mont. And when it ca, Cedrick would realize too late that no amount of artifacts could save him.
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