Chapter 802 Years
?'Dragons!'
Everyone immediately thought as they felt the unmistakable aura they were exuding. They weren't ignorant and knew that the Shadow Immortal had previously assisted the King of Ruri Kingdom by summoning one of his Dragons.
Because of that, they were already aware of their existence. Some of them had even benefited from the scales that he had sold before.
The delegates remained silent, but they slightly bowed with respect to these two ancient and mystical creatures in human form.
They then watched as the pair moved with a grace that belied their human forms.
The man's eyes held the depth of the purple storm, a purple so intense it seemed to swirl lightning…
The woman's gaze was like the flicker of the fiercest flame, a red hue that spoke of wisdom and war.
They halted at the center of the hall, and the man spoke, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated through the air.
"We are Orden and Ryzoir," he announced, and the name didn't ring a bell. It was their first time hearing such names.
The woman, Ryzoir, continued, "We stand before you as emissaries of the Shadow Immortal, guardians of his legacy and bearers of his will."
A collective gasp rose from the delegates.
They felt that there was something off about this since they believed that the Shadow Immortal had no reason not to meet them.
Whispers spread within the hall as they were curious about what message was brought to them.
Orden's gaze swept over the crowd, and he raised a hand for silence.
"The Shadow Immortal has long watched over this realm, he had protected this realm from many disasters that could end an uncountable number of lives… If you seek to express your gratitude, there are offerings that would honor his vigil."
Susan, a delegate from the Elemental Arts Faction and having previously seen Vale in the Twelve Academies Competition, stepped forward, her robes shimmering with a light like the dawn.
"Tell us, Sirs, what offerings would befit such a guardian?"
Ryzoir, her eyes alight with an inner flame, replied, "The Shadow Immortal values the rare and the powerful. Essences of the Elemental planes, Artifacts steeped in ancient magics, Tomes of forgotten lore—these are the treasures that would please him."
A murmur rippled through the crowd as the delegates considered her words. A representative from the Holy Arts Faction, Princess Ceres, her aura radiant with a soft glow, raised a question.
"And how shall we present these offerings?"
Orden's gaze swept over the assembly… "Once you have gathered these items, the Avatars of the Shadow Immortal will seek you out. They will know of your intentions, for the will of the Immortal is vast and far-reaching."
This confused many of them, but in fact, they were simply marked by the Divine Sense… Furthermore, Jin and Giorgi, who were hidden somewhere in the room, also placed their marks on each of them.
Clyde, a delegate from the Mystic Arts Faction, cloaked in black but was wearing a red frock coat and red trousers, spoke up.
"And what of the Shadow Immortal himself? Will he not grace us with his presence?"
Ryzoir's expression was one of solemnity.
"The Shadow Immortal's tasks are many, and his battles are fought in realms beyond your ken. Trust that his Avatars act with his full authority and blessing."
The delegates nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
The Church organizations, their faith unshaken, began to discuss amongst themselves the sacred relics they could offer. The arcane organizations debated the merits of their enchanted items, while the factions considered the powerful spells and incantations at their disposal.
As the meeting adjourned, the hall was filled with activity since everyone here sort of knew each other. It was also a time for them to expand their network.
Anyway, each delegate knew that the task ahead was monumental, but the opportunity to forge a bond with the Shadow Immortal was worth any effort.
And so, they dispersed, each to their own corner of the continent, to gather offerings worthy of a guardian whose shadow had long protected them from the evil…
***
Four years had quickly passed after the Abyss Realm Invasion was quelled.
Aubrey Hall, who once shared notes and theories with her classmate Vale in the classrooms of Vermont Academy, checked her current uniform as it was her first day on her job.
Aubrey had become a Paranormal Investigator who covered a small county.
On a crisp autumn evening, Aubrey found herself standing before the infamous Wraithwood Manor, a house as old as the town's history and twice as enigmatic.
Her clients, the current residents, were a couple who had sought the tranquility of the countryside but found themselves in a flurry of inexplicable occurrences.
Mr. and Mrs. Donnelly greeted Aubrey with a mix of relief and trepidation.
"Ms. Hall," Mr. Donnelly began, his voice tinged with unease, "we've heard of your expertise. The things we've experienced here... they're beyond our understanding."
Mrs. Donnelly nodded, clutching her husband's hand. "Objects moving on their own, chilling whispers at night, and... our daughter, she speaks to someone she calls 'The Lady of the House,' but there's no one there."
Aubrey listened intently, her eyes scanning the manor's facade. "I'll do everything I can to uncover the truth behind these occurrences," she assured them.
As she stepped into Wraithwood Manor, the air grew colder, the silence of the house punctuated by the creak of old wood. Aubrey's tools—a tape recorder, EMF meter, and a crystal camera modified to capture spectral images—were at the ready.
The investigation led her through dust-laden rooms and corridors where the past seemed to cling to the wallpaper.
In the library, books would occasionally tumble from shelves without cause. The dining hall was home to the faint sound of clinking silverware, as if a ghostly banquet were in eternal recess.
'It's not a Vengeful Spirit… Is it just a normal ghost?' She mused as she continued looking.
It was in the upper chambers, however, that Aubrey felt the strongest presence.
A room, untouched by time, held the essence of sadness and longing. Here, the whispers were clearer, forming words that tugged at Aubrey's heart. "Find me," they implored…
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