THE ETERNAL CROWN

Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Trial of the Fang

The fire crackled in the heart of Druvgard, casting flickering shadows against the cold stone walls. Varik the Bloodfang stood before them, arms crossed, his towering figure barely illuminated by the flames. His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement—and challenge.

"The Trial of the Fang is simple," he said, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Survive till dawn."

Eryndor, Lady Sylara, and Prince Aelric exchanged wary glances.

"Survive… what exactly?" Aelric asked cautiously.

Varik’s fanged grin widened. "The beasts of the highlands."

Before they could question further, he turned and slammed his fist into the ground. A deep tremor shook the earth beneath them. In the distance, an eerie howl pierced the night, followed by another… and another.

"The hunt begins," Varik declared. "Run."

The Hunt

Eryndor didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his sword and dashed into the darkness, Sylara and Aelric close behind. The Shrouded Highlands were a frozen labyrinth of jagged cliffs, twisting paths, and unseen dangers lurking in every shadow.

Then they heard it—the thundering footsteps of predators.

From the mist, massive shadow-hounds emerged. Their glowing blue eyes locked onto the group, their black fur rippling like living smoke. Myrvane Wolves.

"Ancient war-beasts," Sylara muttered. "This isn’t just a trial. This is a death sentence!"

The largest of the wolves lunged. Eryndor barely dodged, rolling to the side as claws slashed through the air. Aelric spun, his elven blade flashing as he sliced at another beast.

Sylara raised her hands, muttering an incantation. Purple fire erupted from her fingertips, engulfing one of the wolves, making it yelp in pain before vanishing into the mist.

"We can’t keep fighting them forever!" Aelric shouted.

"Then we don’t," Eryndor gritted his teeth. "We keep moving!"

A Battle in the Dark

The group sprinted through the frozen wilderness, the beasts relentless in their pursuit. Eryndor’s muscles burned, but he pushed forward. Then—a cliff’s edge.

"No way forward!" Aelric cursed.

The wolves encircled them. Their glowing eyes flickered in the mist, teeth bared. One growled deep in its throat, preparing to strike.

"Enough!" A booming voice echoed through the night.

Varik stepped from the shadows, arms crossed. The wolves halted instantly, their glowing eyes dimming.

"Not bad," he mused, stepping closer. "You fought well… and you survived."

Eryndor, breathing hard, sheathed his sword. "So, does this mean…?"

Varik’s fanged grin returned. "You have my strength. The Bloodfang fights for you now."

Aelric let out a tired chuckle. "Well, that was horrifying."

Sylara smirked. "Welcome to our war, beast-man."

But as the group caught their breath, far in the distance, the sky shimmered with unnatural light. Dark clouds swirled over the horizon, and a cold whisper slithered through the air.

"The Shadow Dominion moves," Varik muttered, his expression darkening. "We have little time left."

Eryndor clenched his fists. The Eternal Crown awaited. And with every passing moment, the world edged closer to war.

To be continued…