NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter-135 Coronation
Iris quivered throughout the rite, her wails echoing in Ewan’s soul, as she gobbled their blood. He grew worried as the Boxaflies died under his dagger one after another. By the fifth death, Iris hushed down and drooped, her petals darkening with a faint red halo around her. She still had her roots stabbed into the wounds and sucked in the blood but did not respond.
Ewan suppressed his anxiety and moved on to the next sacrifice. Though Noble and Regal rites had stringent requirements, they balanced it out with high success rates. Even if Iris failed, she shouldn’t be in any danger; at worst, she would need some rest after. But he could not stop a rite in between. It was an uncharted territory for him, and he didn’t want to test it out on his precious Astylind. So, he continued and sliced the seventh one, his blade tracing a steady slit.
…
…
…
Waves after waves traveled through the ankle-length grass in the yard as the wind gradually picked up with the tenth death. Iris had long gone silent and motionless, yet the nature around her was anything but. Ewan squinted against the sudden squall and looked up, his hair dancing, and his loose white shirt fluttering with not a drop of blood. The dark nimbus cloud had shaded the sky out of nowhere, its edges billowing.
The receding ocean returned with a crash, disregarding the season. The beasts in the mountain howled and bayed, their cries resonation within the woods. The wind raged, the Blood-Anima rampaged, and a thick pressure engulfed the area. It was a velvety blanket for Ewan that gently draped over his shoulder, yet Kidd had to kneel under it. His face reddened, his veins popped, drops of sweat dripped down his temples.
“B-Boss…,” he said, or tried to, his breath hitched. But Ewan paid him no mind, his eyes were on the changes around him.
The birth of a King—the rise of royalty—it could never be silent. And when he changed his perspective, the clouds became her crown, the wind was her cloak, the Blood-Anima depicted the ceremonial scepter, and the ocean and the beasts saluted her on her coronation.
The rite and its reverberations continued for a while. Ewan watched over Iris as she went from a noble to a royalty of her race. At the same time, a hint of savagery brewed in her and passed on to him. It was a wish, an obsession, a drive that her instinct compelled—the core of her being screamed to kill all the other royals of her race.
There could only be one crowned King. The conflict in their authorities signified no possibilities of a compromise. So, unless Ewan suppressed Iris’s instinct by force, he had to fight once and if they met another royal Blood-Lotus. The same would be the case for all his other Astylinds….
Identify.
[Astylind Name: Blood Lotus]
[Astylind Level: Level-9]
[Astylind Grade: Grade-S]
[Anima Affinity: Blood]
[Skills: Blood-Recipient | Mend]
[Gender: Female]
[Description: Extinct natives of Sepra. They had decent affinity with Blood-Anima (Recipient) but lacked the means to protect themselves. Delicate and feeble. They lost the battle of natural selection.]
[Grade-Exalt Requirements: --]
[Remark 1: Can be used as an ingredient for potions. Useless otherwise.]
[Remark 2: Decent choice for a healing type Astylind. But lack strong evolution branches.]
[Remark 3: I don’t like them. They’re nasty~]
[Remark 4: Special evolution path found. Focus should be on its grade.]
Amidst the turbulent nature, a teeth-clattering blare of a bell from the watchtower ran in the city. Three short clangs. Was it because of the disturbance Iris caused? Ewan thought. One long clang and the bell’s echo faded away.
Three shorts and one long—that was the emergency signal, Drarith was under attack.
…..
He needed stability for his plans. And it hinged on the safety of the city and the Ensils, he didn’t want them to fall, not yet. As long as the threat didn’t surpass what he could handle, he could risk joining the defense. So, he let the corpses be, brought Iris into the rune, and raced down the mountain with Kidd.
“B-Boss…s-slow down….” Kidd panted behind Ewan, struggling to match his steps, slipping and stumbling on a rock then chased after him again.
Ewan stopped when he entered the city and looked around. The fight hadn’t reached this far but the panic had spread. The old, the women, and the children scurried away to their homes and barricaded the door while the able men took up arms. Spears, swords, axes, hammers—not the weapons of untrained citizens but of a veteran militia. The constant skirmishes, raids, and the lack of the perimeter wall hampered the technological development but had long turned the citizens into a fighting force. Yet…could they stand against advanced weapons? Drarith didn’t have them, but its enemies must—the walled colonies followed that trend of progress.
“Take this,” Ewan said, turning to Kidd and handing him his bloodied Obsidian Dagger. “Go find Valarie and keep her safe. Announce yourself properly, don’t get mistaken for an enemy.”
“I-I will!!” He gulped lungfuls of air and took the dagger with trembling hands, with a gash on his palm from the fall.
“Don’t disappoint me,” Ewan said and rushed away with the militia.
The chaos had spread in the outskirts and the battlefield inched closer to the inner city. The farmlands went up in flames, the oblivious farmers lay in their own blood, their dead eyes still unaware of their death. The city-guards fought back but fell one after another under the sudden onslaught. The wave of enemies lay waste to their stations that made up the final line of defense and pushed in, crushing the militia that resisted.
When Ewan reached the fight, they’d already touched the plaza. The new wave of Ashevas that came with him finally halted the enemies’ steps with a rumbling roar, yet the situation was still precarious.
“Hold! Push back!!” Kiev hollered, managing the Ashevas around him. “Push them out and create the line again!! Defend your home!!! Defend your family!!!”
The damage done, the lives lost, the resources ransacked, and the blame for it all—everything would come later. For now, they had to fight and raise a defensive line again. So, Ewan took position with the Severynths he knew and took out his Spellbook and a head-sized crystal ball. Moonkeeper—the artifact Nana made for him—it hovered before him, brimming with Mystic-Anima.
Can't wait to read ahead? There's a free chapter available on Patreon. It has 40+ chapters ahead of the Royal Road release on it!
You can also join my Discord.
Note: Members are charged on the day they join, and then monthly on that same date. For example, if you join on the 10th, you'll be charged on that day, and then monthly on the 10th.