Chapter 93: A Tamer’s Conspiracy 1
The next morning the trio continued with their journey and the he Shattered Peaks loomed like shattered relics of a forgotten age, their jagged spires were swallowed by a sky churning with storm clouds, the air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked stone and lingering decay.
Kelvin led the Tide’s Crest along a crumbling ridge, his boots were slipping on slick shale, each step was a stab of pain through his bruised ribs and aching limbs.
His staff was clutched tightly in his trembling hand which pulsed faintly with fire runes and their glow was a dim beacon in the storm’s gloom.
The flame-carved pendant around his neck hung heavy, which was a symbol of their hard-fought victories in Shadowfen, Crags, Wastes, Hollow, the Peaks’ rift, and the behemoth’s defeat.
But the cloaked figure was a silent challenge and the Veil’s whispers clung to him, a cold dread that tightened his chest like a vice.
The memory of their near-collapse against the behemoth that haunted him, which sowed doubts that threatened to unravel his resolve.
Xerion, the End-Tyrant, slithered beside him, his massive serpentine form was a cascade of crimson and gold scales that shimmered weakly in the rain.
The ancient beast, a Level 8 Legendary whose legend stretched back to the Great Rift War that moves with a weary grace, his twenty-foot length weaving over the uneven path, his scales was scarred from their battles.
His amber eyes were deep and ageless, it scanned the cliffs with a low hiss vibrating the air as if it was sensing a new threat.