The Black Necromancer

Chapter 393 Darkhold
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Chapter 393 Darkhold

Under the instructions of Princess Vera, dozens of small bases that had been built, staffed and occupied over the many decades that this rebellion had been cooking for were abandoned and stripped of all their worth.

While it was a painful action to those that had lived here for a significant portion of their lives, they had all known that they would eventually move on from hiding to living out in the open, so a mindset for change was already fostered in the hearts. The same went for the children that were born and raised in this environment.

Over the next week, Leon watched as Duskbloom became much more crowded. The streets were busier and filled with people. With the influx of people came another fair share of problems, but they were easily dealt with.

Leon did not put much attention on the people. What he was really looking forward to was the war. Since the moment he came to this world, he had been fighting. It had been ingrained in his mentality by this point. He lived and breathed the thrill of battle, although it got quite boring if it was repetitive.

This war on the other hand was something new. Not only was it a rebellion, which was quite different from the invasion of the Central Continent, but it was also something that would take place on an entirely different scale!

One thing about the war between the Demons and the Central Continent was that the defenders were greatly divided and were not able to work together effectively to repel the Demons. Only about fifty percent of the nations on the continent had sent their armies to assist in the war. Another thing to note was that the Demons had held back on their part too, as they were not entirely ready to get embroiled in a long war.

The Elves on the other hand would see a very different type of war. This war would be what would determine the future of the marginalized half breeds and other minorities in their society. They were fighting for their home and future.

This would make it so that they would not be backing out of the war halfway like the Demons. When they started, they would be fighting till the end.

.

.

Dyson had a thoughtful look on his face as he walked through the wide tunnels and caverns of the underground base that he had just arrived at. He had gotten the location of the base from the memory of one of the captured Elves on the base he had raided some time ago.

"Darkhold, what a fitting name." He murmured to himself as he toured the base. He said it was fitting because of the pitch black rocks that the base was built out of.

This rock was known quite common in Rivera, but was harder to come across in other parts of the world. Its name was Black Iron. It was given this name because of its immense toughness. A lot of important walls were made out of this rock.

By the time Dyson was done touring the base, he nodded his head slightly, quite impressed at how well the rebels had cleaned up their traces. He could not find a single lead that could tell him anything.

However, he was not alone.

A dark figure danced in the shadows, leaping from shadow to shadow as it prowled the entirety of the base. Eventually, it came to Dyson's side.

"I smell the Elvessss... And something elseeee... Something dark, but light. Holy but Unholy. A Necromancer and a... Priest? I am not sure of the second, but there is surely a Necromancer working in hand with these rebelsss..." The shadowy figure coalesced into a two meter tall figure that had a hunched back and long, curled claws that adorned its forelimbs.

"Can you trace them?" Dyson did not like the aura of death that was radiating from the being's body, but he endured it for the sake of his mission.

"Yesss, but not exactly... Their traces are blurred... I cannot follow them accurately." The shadowy figure hissed. It realized something at that moment.

"We have been tricked!" It moved to jump into the shadows when a wave of white light bloomed within Darkhold. Dyson's eyes were wide as a furious heat washed over his body.

BOOOOM!!!

A pillar of white light rose into the sky, drawing the attention of all that were able to see it. All the areas around the region where the white pillar of light rose from shook and trembled so badly that some mountain tops even broke and collapsed. Some buildings even collapsed on themselves and tumbled down.

Alvar, who was within his palace stood up from his throne and looked at the distant pillar of white light with narrowed eyes. His gaze was strong and fierce.

"It seems war is upon us."

He deftly turned around and strode out of his bedroom. He did not waste time and ordered some guards on hand to fetch the High Council of Rivera.

The High Council consisted of twelve of the most powerful or wisest Elves throughout all of Rivera. Not only were they powerful and wise, but they also carried a lot of experience, as none of them were young and middling children. In fact, the youngest of them all was Alvar himself!

This was quite something, as Alvar was already a couple hundred years old!

Before long, he was seated in a large, round meeting room. At the center of the room, a large roundtable was placed. Alvar was already seated when several flashes of light erupted over the other seats. Eleven Elves appeared in each seat, their expressions either grave or dignified.

"Elders." Alvar greeted.

"Your Majesty, it seems things are not as 'in control' as you have assured us." A tall Elf with golden hair packed back into a pony tail said in a slightly mocking manner. He oozed a dignified and snobbish aura as he stared at Alvar for a few moments.

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