Chapter 16 – The Silence Before the Leviathan

Crownless King: The Heir of the Forgotten Throne

Chapter 16 – The Silence Before the Leviathan

Kael had remained largely mute since he experienced the haunting dream that had filled his mind with an uneasy dread.

His gaze remained fixated on the horizon, which seemed poised to explode into fragments. There was an unsettling sense about it, as though he had already glimpsed the unfolding calamity on the brink of arrival. In a profound sense—he had, indeed, caught a glimpse.

The world was beginning to shift once more, a subtle yet determined motion creeping through the fabric of existence. It resembled a blade being drawn carefully from a deep, unyielding stone, the slow rasping sound echoing in the tension of the air.

And Kael—a vessel of intuition—could feel the change reverberate within his very bones, resonating against his ribs with an urgent calling.

Something colossal was beginning to stir from its slumber, a restless behemoth lying in wait.

Seris was the first among them to observe the signs.

It was in the very currents of the wind that she detected it.

A sense of disquiet.

The air was too still, too flat—an unsettling silence enveloped the land. There were no birds to punctuate the atmosphere with their melodies, no distant echoes to break the spell of quietude.

Even the nearby ley-lines, the natural currents of magical energy that crisscrossed the landscape, pulsated out of sync, like a haunting, discordant tune.

She knelt beside a shard of broken glass, a remnant of the Sanctum's previous glory strewn amidst the ruin. Holding it up toward the overcast sky, she noted that the reflection bore an imperceptible tilt, an anomaly that sent a chill darting down her spine.

In a hushed voice, she breathed out, "The world's tilting."

As the day wore on, Tarin later confirmed the unsettling phenomenon, scrutinizing the ley-activity displayed on a salvaged prism-slate that flickered with data.

His face contorted into a deep frown, a storm of concern brewing within him.

"The leyflow to the southwest is vanishing. It's like... it's being drained away," he muttered, astonished.

Kael's eyes darted up from his own contemplations.

"Not broken?" he ventured, searching for hopeful reassurance.

"No," Tarin replied, his voice grave. "Worse. It's been redirected."

"Someone's siphoning power, Kael. Enough energy to plunge an entire quadrant into darkness."

"And there's only one place that could handle that kind of immense draw," Kael mused, a sense of dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

Seris swiftly answered for him, her voice laced with an unshakeable certainty.

"The Leviathan Crypt."

Long ago, in a time before the Twelve ruled over the lands with their destructive brands and memory-altering fires, they forged something far deeper than mere dominion.

A failsafe, hidden beneath the waves, beyond human reach or understanding. It was a living weapon, a tremendous force that could only be unleashed when the balance of existence tipped dangerously over the edge.

This creature was not designed for conquest; rather, it was created to reset the very fabric of the world.

Kael rose slowly from the ground, his form resolute, his voice a low rumble resonating with unwavering determination.

"They're going to erase us all—Crownless, Hollow, Guild. Everyone will be cast into oblivion."

Seris squinted, weighing the gravity of his assertion.

"That creature isn't faithful to any cause. Its loyalty is bound to equations. It recognizes imbalance, and its only recourse is to reset."

Tarin, shaking his head in disbelief, offered a grim warning. "We're ill-prepared to confront something of that magnitude."

Kael directed a steadfast gaze toward both of them.

"We're not gearing up to battle it yet."

"Our priority is to uncover why it has awakened now of all times."

As night fell, cloaking the Hollow Windlands in darkness, Kael found himself seated alone once more, next to a flickering cold flame that cast uneven shadows. The sword, known as the First Flame, lay beside him, pulsing gently, an almost sentient rhythm that felt less like a weapon and more like a heartbeat synchronizing with his own.

Seris approached him, arms crossed against the chill.

"You dreamed again, didn't you?" she queried, piercing right to the heart of the matter.

Kael didn't offer a denial, instead allowing silence to fill the air, heavy with meaning.

"It was the throne. A vision of the end of everything familiar. But I knew I wasn't alone."

Seris chose not to pry further, understanding that the weight of his revelation was heavy enough.

She simply stated, "Then keep that version alive. The one where we endure."

"Because I'll be damned if the Twelve rob us of another ending that's rightfully ours."

In the profound depths beneath the southern sea, chains creaked in an ominous symphony of rust and old magic. Enchantments fractured under pressure. And something vast stirred within the trench, awakening from its long dormancy.

The Leviathan, a being of extraordinary power, opened one eye, not resembling a creature of myth or a deity of old, but rather as if it were a sentence—an inevitable decree—etched in flesh and metal, illuminated by an arcane script.

And it had just been summoned, called forth from its eternal slumber.

"Crownless... Fire-bearer... Skybreaker..."

"I am awake."

To be continued...