Frozen Flame of Dawn - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Chapter 16: Rising Beast Wave_2

The Capital City of the Eryndor Empire

Eryndor’s capital city was lit up in shades of orange and red from the soft glow of twilight. The streets with cobblestones were covered in long shadows, and lights flickered like fireflies that couldn’t settle down. You could hear faint echoes of shouting in the distance. Unrest was still building somewhere in the outer regions.

The central districts, however, remained relatively calm, thanks to the Emperor’s foresight and the swift action of the Royal Guard.

At the Grand Council hall sat Emperor Alaric III, his presence undeniable even without the golden imperial robes draped over his broad shoulders. He sat on a raised throne carved from obsidian stone, his posture regal yet commanding. His sharp, silver eyes swept over the room, cold as winter frost, while his hands rested on the lion-headed armrests.

Before him, members of his imperial council stood on either side of the long stone table. Dukes, generals, and ministers—all eyes fixed on the advisor at the center of the room, who was nervously giving his report.

The advisor spoke in a steady voice and looked at his report quickly as if it could protect him from the Emperor’s eyes. “The situation in the capital province remains stable, Your Majesty.”

“Our citizens are calm thanks to the measures we took following your orders. The broadcast warning allowed us to prepare in advance. The majority of awakened citizens are under observation, and the Royal Guard has responded swiftly to isolated disturbances.”

Emperor Alaric leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharp as a drawn blade. “And the other provinces?”

The advisor glanced at his notes, his face tightening. “The Duke of Noxen Province followed your instructions, Your Majesty. They established localized communication networks and have maintained order within it’s city’s core.” He hesitated, clearing his throat before continuing.

“However, we have yet to establish direct communication with any other provinces due to disruption of the wireless systems. Our envoys are working to restore the link.”

The Emperor tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “You mean to tell me we have no clear status on the other provinces?”

“Y-yes, Your Majesty,” the advisor stammered. “Not yet, but efforts are underway. We’ve started constructing wired communication channels to connect the central province with the neighboring ones. Once the capital’s situation stabilizes, we will push efforts outward.”

Alaric’s jaw tightened as he leaned back in his throne, his fingers tapping the lion-headed armrest. He exhaled slowly, his eyes like storm clouds ready to burst. “See to it that this ‘effort’ of yours does not become an excuse. I want that link established. No delays.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the advisor bowed deeply, his voice sharp with urgency.

The room fell silent.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the chamber burst open with a loud BANG. The eyes of every noble and council member snapped toward the entrance. A messenger, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, stumbled inside. The guards stationed at the entrance stepped aside as he hurried to the center of the hall, dropping to one knee.

“Your Majesty!” he called out, panting like he’d run across the whole city. “Urgent news from Farhold Province!”

“Speak,” Alaric ordered, his tone low and icy.

The messenger swallowed hard, wiping his brow. “The envoy we sent to farhold province sent a report that, The Duke of Farhold has failed to comply with your directives. The province has fallen into disarray. Uncontrolled awakenings among the population have led to widespread riot. Reports of looting, fires, and violent awakenings have spread across the region. The Duke has requested reinforcements.”

The hall descended into murmurs. Several council members exchanged glances, their faces a mix of shock and annoyance. A few of the Dukes shifted uncomfortably, as if suddenly remembering their own provinces.

“Silence!” Emperor Alaric’s voice boomed across the hall like a clap of thunder. The murmuring ceased instantly. His eyes burned with a cold fire as he turned toward his prime minister. “Prime Minister.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the prime minister stepped forward, head bowed.

“Assign my son, Crown Prince Kaelen, to lead a detachment of the Royal Guard to Farhold. I want that province brought to order. No excuses, no negotiations.” His eyes flicked as he said.

The prime minister bowed, his voice clear and direct. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor waved a hand dismissively. The messenger bowed, retreating quickly, his face pale as he disappeared through the grand doors. The rest of the council stood still, their gazes shifting uneasily. Some of them had barely managed to keep control of their own provinces, and they knew it.

Emperor Alaric rose from his throne. He did so slowly, but his presence loomed over the chamber like a gathering storm. His sharp gaze swept across every noble and official in the room. “Let it be known,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble of thunder. “This empire does not tolerate failure. Farhold’s Duke has forgotten this. And he will face the consequences.”

With a swish of his crimson cloak, the Emperor strode toward the side exit. His boots echoed like the ticking of a clock, counting down the time the Duke of Farhold had left to redeem himself.

The doors closed behind him with a loud thud.

The moment he was gone, the council members released breaths they didn’t realize they’d been holding. Several of them glanced at each other, their faces still tense.

“Wise move by His Majesty,” muttered Minister Varric, tugging at the edge of his robe. “Had we not prepared for that broadcast, we would be in the same state as Farhold right now.”

Another Duke nodded, his face lined with stress. “That much is certain. The broadcast was clear. The warning was clear. Some of us,” he said with a glance toward an empty chair meant for the Duke of Farhold, “chose to ignore it.”

“Fools,” the prime minister muttered. “It doesn’t matter now. The Emperor’s decision is final.”

The council slowly went back to discussion. They looked at maps and reports and already had thoughts of how to keep their own areas from getting into the same mess.

Elsewhere, in other lands, chaos reigned.

In Valenport, a king stared at a dead comm-system, his fist clenched. “No communication. No support. Nothing.” His voice trembled with barely restrained fury. “How did this happen?”

His advisor, pale and trembling, replied, “We… we dismissed the broadcast as a hoax, Your Majesty.”

“You dismissed it,” the king hissed, his eyes wild with rage. “Now the whole kingdom burns.”

While the world was still reeling from the chaos of the surge. Cities burned, lights flickered, and people fought battles in the streets—against others, against themselves, and sometimes against their own pets.

People were so scared that they didn’t have time to think, and for most, the broadcast’s last warning had become just background noise.

However, something even more dangerous was taking place deep within different forests all over the world.

Aurelia Forest – Eldoria Continent, Central Region

The forest was eerily silent, there were no birds chirping or bugs buzzing the only the faint sound of leaves moving in the wind at midnight.

For hundreds of years, the Aurelia Forest was known as a peaceful place to be in the woods. Hunters would be careful because they knew that only the bravest would go into its heart.

But tonight, it was different as there were silver beams of moonlight that lit up parts of the forest floor as they broke through the thick cover.

A series of low, guttural growls echoed through the forest, each one growing louder as the underbrush shook with the weight of something massive, snapping branches underfoot while deep, resonating snarls reverberated through the hollow trunks of old trees.

A clearing emerged ahead, lit faintly by the moonlight. Dozens of mountain tigers prowled the perimeter, their glowing yellow eyes reflecting like lanterns in the shadows. Their bodies were no longer the sleek, agile predators they had been. These creatures had grown.

Muscles bulged beneath their striped pelts, their bodies twice as large as before. Their teeth, once sharp but manageable, now jutted from their jaws like ivory knives. Some had thick manes of hardened fur, while others bore strange markings along their flanks—runes of unknown origin that glowed faintly in hues of red, blue, or green.

One of them, a tiger with black-and-gold stripes, stepped forward. Its claws scraped the ground, cutting through soil and stone alike. Small arcs of lightning crackled along its back, making the air around it buzz. It let out a low rumbling snarl, its gaze locked on the creature at the center of the clearing.

And there it was—the king of the pack. At first, it had been like the others. Just another apex predator, larger than most, but still a beast bound by instinct.

But something was changing. Its body pulsed with energy, its chest rising and falling in deep, heaving breaths. Its eyes were closed, its massive body trembling. The once-powerful muscles along its back began to swell unnaturally.

Its paws dug deep gouges into the dirt, claws raking up roots as if it were fighting something unseen. The other tigers watched in tense silence, their instincts telling them that something monumental was happening.

A low growl escaped the beast’s throat, but it wasn’t the sound of a normal tiger. It was deeper, layered, like two voices growling in unison. Its shoulders rose and broadened, each movement accompanied by the cracking of bones and the stretching of flesh.

Its entire body began to expand, its previous monstrous size now doubling. Its once broad head began to split—not metaphorically, but literally.

A wet, grotesque squelch echoed as the skin on its left shoulder bulged outward, the bones within pushing and cracking unnaturally. One of the tigers watching let out a sharp growl, backing away as something pushed its way free.

Fur, flesh, and sinew stretched as a second head emerged from the side of its body. This new head shook violently, its eyes glowing a deep, fiery red, far more intense than its original blue. Both heads snapped their jaws, breathing in the cold night air like it was tasting it for the first time.

The once-silent forest erupted with a thunderous roar—no, a howl—a dual-voiced roar so loud it echoed through the valleys and cliffs beyond the forest. Birds that had been hidden in the canopy shot into the sky in a flurry of wings, and smaller creatures fled in every direction. Even the other tigers bowed their heads, their eyes lowered to the ground in submission.

But soon multiple roars and energy pressure came from different direction, telling this existence he is not the king and ruler of the forest.

Its twin heads gazed in opposite directions, each one emanating a different elemental aura. The left head’s fur shimmered like molten gold, eyes burning like embers, flames licking at the tips of its whiskers. The right head’s gaze was cold and sharp, its breath coming out in clouds of frost, and every step it took left a trail of ice on the ground.

The ground trembled, but this time it wasn’t from the weight of its steps. It was the pulse of the forest itself.

The king raised both heads toward the canopy and howled once more. But this wasn’t a roar of dominance. It was a call. A command.

Far in the distance, other howls echoed back—faint at first but growing louder. These weren’t just mountain tigers. It was something more.

Across the world, in every forest, jungle, and woodland, the same pattern repeated.

A pack of dire wolves with glowing red eyes prowled through the Korrin Woods, their breath visible in the cold night air.

Their leader, a massive wolf with black, smoke-like fur, had grown to the size of a horse. Its eyes shimmered like molten gold, and as it opened its mouth, flames flickered at the edges of its fangs. It let out a bone-chilling howl, and every beast in the forest stilled, their attention drawn to it.

In the Vale of Whispers, where the trees themselves had grown taller and broader than they had been mere hours ago, giant boars stomped through the thick undergrowth.

Their tusks, now long and jagged, glowed faintly green, a toxic mist swirling around them. They left trails of destruction as their massive bodies charged through thickets, reducing trees to splinters with every charge. Their grunts were low, guttural, like the sound of a distant avalanche.

But it wasn’t just animals.

Plants moved too.

The forests that had once been still were now alive. Vines slithered like snakes, creeping up the trunks of trees and expanding outward. In some areas, thorned bushes grew rapidly, thickening into impassable walls of brambles within minutes.

Carnivorous plants that once fed on insects were now large enough to devour a wolf whole, their petals snapping shut like bear traps. Fungi glowed in bioluminescent hues, spitting spores into the air with soft hissing sounds.

Even the earth itself changed. Stones that had once been inert now shimmered with faint glowing runes. Boulders shifted as if something beneath them was moving. In a few rare locations, small rock and mineral crawled out of the soil, their glowing faint color moved with slow as the terrain changes.

The beast tide was just on verger of beginning.