THE GATHERING OF REALMS

Chapter 126: The Gathering of Realms

The morning sun bathed Sylvethien's Grand Assembly Hall in golden light.

Elven nobles, emissaries, and warriors lined the great chamber, their flowing robes shimmering with woven mana. The air thrummed with restrained energy—for today marked the official start of the Convergence.

And yet, the most powerful figures had yet to arrive.

Kael and the Vanguard stood near the hall's entrance, already attracting whispers from High Elven courtiers.

Mira exhaled. "We've been here for three days, and they still look at us like we're a pack of wild beasts."

Cassian smirked. "To be fair, we are."

Selene rolled her eyes. "They aren't looking at us because we're warriors. They're looking at us because Eldoria's leaders aren't here yet."

Lucian crossed his arms. "They will be."

And as if on cue—

A deep, commanding voice echoed through the hall.

"Make way."

The grand doors of the assembly swung open.

And the true rulers of Eldoria entered.

First stepped Emperor Adrian Eldoria.

Dressed in a regal black-and-gold coat, his silver hair framed a face that radiated both wisdom and ruthless control. His golden eyes swept across the room, measuring everything in a single glance.

Despite the elves' quiet grace, his mere presence dominated the hall.

Behind him, two more figures entered—both just as imposing.

Grand Duke Alistair Veyrin followed, his long silver hair tied back, his red eyes cold and unreadable. He moved like a phantom of war, his elegant black armor embroidered with crimson sigils.

Beside him, Duke Ragnor Grimthorne strode in—a towering figure, built like a fortress, his dark beard streaked with silver. His heavy battle cloak, lined with dwarven steel-thread, swayed with his steps. Unlike Veyrin's silence, Grimthorne's storm-gray eyes burned with amusement.

The room fell into hushed whispers.

Sylvethien's most powerful elves had centuries of experience dealing with kings and emperors.

Yet even they felt the weight of Eldoria's leadership.

The King of Eldoria stopped before Queen Sylvaine.

He smiled—a sharp, knowing thing.

"My apologies for the delay," Emperor Adrian said smoothly. "We had to make sure our borders were secured before leaving."

Queen Sylvaine studied him, then returned a graceful nod.

"We welcome you, Emperor Eldoria," she said. "And your esteemed companions."

Her violet gaze flickered briefly toward Grand Duke Veyrin and Duke Grimthorne.

Veyrin simply nodded.

Grimthorne, however, grinned.

"Nice trees you've got here," the Duke of War mused. "Would be a shame if something happened to them."

Several elves visibly tensed.

Kael sighed internally. Of course he'd say that.

Queen Sylvaine remained composed, though Prince Aelric's eyes sharpened.

Lucian massaged his temples. "You just got here, and you're already causing problems."

Grimthorne chuckled. "It's a gift."

Before tensions could rise further, another deep, resounding horn echoed across the assembly.

More arrivals.

The rest of the world had come.

The Dragons – The Crimson Sovereign

The air grew heavy with mana.

The very sky darkened, as if the presence of something greater had arrived.

Then—wings.

A shadow passed over the hall.

A colossal red dragon descended, landing just outside the elven palace. The ground trembled beneath its weight, its scales shimmering like molten rubies.

And from its back stepped a figure.

High Lord Veydrion the Crimson.

The ruler of the Dragonkin.

Tall, broad-shouldered, with golden slit-pupil eyes, his clawed gauntlets shimmered with draconic runes. His crimson cape, woven from dragonfire silk, shifted like living flames.

The elves remained still, not out of fear—but respect.

Kael inhaled. Now this…

…this was power.

Veydrion's voice rumbled like thunder.

"I assume we haven't missed anything important?"

Queen Sylvaine smiled. "Not at all, High Lord."

Veydrion's gaze swept toward the Vanguard.

And for a brief second—Kael felt the weight of those golden eyes.

Judging. Measuring.

Then, Veydrion smirked.

"Interesting."

Queen Sylvaine and Prince Aelric represented the elves.

But Kael noticed something.

Several elven figures in dark silver armor stood apart from the High Elves, watching silently.

The exiled Dark Elven clans.

For now, they simply observed.

The Dwarves – The Iron Lords

With heavy iron boots, the Dwarven Lords arrived—led by King Borgrim Stonefury.

Short but built like a war machine, his steel-gray beard reached his chest, and his battle axe was almost as big as he was.

"Bah, bloody elves and their fancy trees," Borgrim muttered. "Where's the ale?"

Mira stifled a laugh.

Evelyne, standing nearby, grinned. "I like him."

The Vampires – The Bloodborn Court

The hall dimmed slightly, as if shadows thickened.

And then—they arrived.

The Vampiric Nobility.

Dressed in flowing obsidian robes, their leader—Valerian Noctis—moved with effortless grace, her blood-red eyes gleaming.

She smiled, revealing sharp fangs.

"Let us hope this gathering is… fruitful."

Lucian muttered, "I already hate her."

The Beastkin Tribes and Merfolk Royalty arrived last, each displaying their unique presence—warriors of nature and rulers of the seas.

A Lionkin Warchief stood tall, his fur marked with tribal sigils.

Beside him, the Merfolk Princess, her shimmering blue scales glowing beneath enchanted water pearls, bowed gracefully.

Kael exhaled.

This was it.

The Convergence of Realms had begun.

And somewhere, hidden beneath formal smiles and regal greetings—a storm brewed.