Chapter 78- Whispers in the Wind

The aftermath of the storm hung heavily over

Wrynne. The once-thriving city, now scarred by

the godly manifestation of Zephiron's wrath, was

eerily quiet. Elias stood amidst the wreckage,

the storm god's final form crumbling into nothingness, leaving behind only the remnants of the battle-a distorted, broken ground and scattered debris from the winds that had torn through the city like a furious beast.

The clouds, dark and ominous only moments before, were now dissipating, leaving a blue sky that felt almost too calm. The air was thick with tension, and Elias could hear nothing but the faint hum of the wind. The silence felt wrong, like the calm before a storm-yet, this time, it was a storm of a different kind.

"Are you alright?" Althea's voice broke through his thoughts, her soft, concerned tone pulling him from the depth of his reflection.

Elias turned to see her and Lyra standing a few paces away, both looking at him with a mix of worry and awe. The destruction that had occurred in the wake of the storm was evident around them, but it wasn't the destruction itself that seemed to hold their attention-it was him.

He was standing alone amidst the wreckage, his face unreadable, his body still reeling from the Intense clash with the storm god. His hands gripped the hilt of his Divine Dagger, the weapon still crackling with residual energy from their battle.

"I'm fine," Elias said, his voice steady but carrying a weight of contemplation. "It's over for now."

But Althea's eyes narrowed as she studied him. She could tell that the storm god's demise hadn't fully settled in Elias's mind. He was thinking about something-something important.

"Elias..." she began, her tone a mixture of concern and curiosity, "What's bothering you?"

Elias remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, his mind replaying. the battle with Zephiron's manifestation. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more at play here than he had realized,

"The real Zephiron wasn't here," he finally said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. "That wasn't the full force of the Storm Tyrant. That..... was just a manifestation."

Althea and Lyra exchanged uncertain glances. They had seen the storm god, felt the immense power that had nearly torn the city apart, and to hear Elias say it was only a fragment of the true god sent a ripple of unease through them.

"Then..." Lyra spoke up, her voice tinged with disbelief, "If that wasn't the real Zephiron, what does that mean for us?"

Elias turned to face them, his silver eyes gleaming with determination. "It means the gods aren't waiting for us to climb the Tower. They're watching. And if we're not careful, the Trial will spill out of the Tower and into the world."

Althea's expression softened, understanding flickering in her eyes. She had witnessed Elias's unrelenting drive to seek power and revenge against the gods, but now, for the first time, she saw something else in his gaze. It wasn't just the thirst for power-it was the weight of

responsibility. The world outside the Tower was no longer just a backdrop to their trials. It was a stage for the gods to manipulate, and the stakes had risen to new heights.

"What do we do now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands clenched into

fists.

Elias paused for a moment, his gaze steady and unwavering as it met hers. "We keep moving forward. But we do it with our eyes open. The gods are already here, and they won't stop until they have what they want."

Lyra stepped forward, her usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment. "And what do you mean by that? Do you think this city is safe now? Or do you think there's something bigger waiting for us out there?"

Elias's lips curled into a grim smile. "I'm not sure what's waiting for us, but I'm certain it won't be easy."

The wind began to stir again, gentle at first, but there was an eerie undertone to it, as though something was shifting on the horizon. Elias felt a chill run down his spine, a feeling he couldn't shake. The battle with the storm god had unsettled him in ways he hadn't anticipated.

For a moment, it felt like the calm was merely a pause, a break before the storm that would follow.

"Let's go back to the inn, Elias suggested, his voice resolute. "We need rest and time to think. We'll deal with the consequences of this later."

As the trio made their way back through the ruined streets of Wrynne, the city was still in the process of recovering from the chaos that had

just unfolded. Citizens were slowly returning to their homes, picking through the debris, but

there was a heaviness in the air an uncertainty about what had just happened and what was

coming next. They all knew the true nature of the Trial was far more dangerous than any of them had realized.

The journey back to the inn was uneventful, the streets quiet except for the occasional rustle of wind and the distant murmur of the citizens discussing the storm. As they approached the familiar doors of the inn, Elias couldn't help but feel a sense of dread settle in his chest.

The gods had shown their hand. They were no longer hidden behind the veil of the Trial. Now, they were watching from the shadows, manipulating the world as they saw fit..

Elias had always thought that the real battle would be in the Trial, within the Tower itself. But now, he understood that the true war would be fought beyond its walls, in the heart of the world they inhabited.

The inn's door creaked open, and they stepped inside. The familiar warmth of the tavern greeted them, a stark contrast to the tension that gripped Elias's mind.

Althea and Lyra took their usual seats by the fire, the crackling flames offering some comfort in the otherwise still atmosphere.

Elias sat across from them, his mind still racing. He could feel the weight of the Divine Dagger on his side, its presence a constant reminder of the

power he had gained from the battle. But that power came with a cost. He had learned that the gods were not to be underestimated. They were not simply powerful beings; they were forces of nature themselves, tied to the very world they sought to control.

"I need to think," Elias muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Althea watched him closely, her expression softening as she noticed the exhaustion in his eyes. He had pushed himself to the limit, fighting not just for survival, but for revenge. And though he had emerged victorious, there was still a heaviness in his heart-an

uncertainty about the path he was walking.

Lyra, too, seemed lost in her thoughts. The battle had shaken her as well, but she didn't show it as much as Althea did. Her mind was always calculating, always looking for the next move.

The night passed in silence, the three of them lost in their own thoughts. But for Elias, sleep came fitfully, his mind racing with questions.

Why had Zephiron's manifestation been so weak? Was the Trial testing him for something greater? Or had the gods already planned their next move?

Elias couldn't shake the feeling that the answers would come soon-too soon, perhaps. And when they did, he would be ready.