Chapter 140
Malakor walked through the corridor alongside his general, Thomas, his expression cold as he listened to the reports from his men.
"How are the preparations going?" he asked.
"The siblings are almost finished with the weapon," Thomas replied. "It should be ready by the wedding."
"I'll see to it myself, then."
Thomas followed silently as Malakor continued down the corridor, his footsteps echoing through the stone passage.
They eventually reached the chamber that had been granted to the members of the Veiled Thorn for their experiments. The room had once been an ordinary research chamber, but under their control, it had become something far more sinister.
Strange magical instruments occupied the tables, dark crystals glowed faintly within metal frames, and the air carried the sharp, unnatural scent of magic that had been tampered with too many times.
Malakor pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The Veiled Thorn had been given everything they had demanded for their work, resources, prisoners, magical artefacts, and access to the deepest parts of Varynthar's underground facilities. In return, he expected results.
And this time, he intended to see them for himself.
The Veiled Thorn had not begun as a group of dark mages seeking power. Its origins could be traced back to Ardentia, a land renowned for its vast magical knowledge and generations of scholars who had dedicated their lives to understanding the mysteries of magic.
The Ardentians welcomed disciples from across the kingdoms, teaching those who were willing to learn.
But they also believed that magic was something to be respected, not conquered.
They never sought to make themselves invincible, become immortal, or use magic to dominate others.
To them, there were natural laws governing magic, and those laws existed for a reason.
Not everyone agreed.
A handful of their most gifted disciples believed that the Ardentians were unnecessarily limiting themselves.
They wanted to push magic beyond its boundaries, to twist the natural laws that governed it and discover whether magic could grant them immortality and absolute power.
They secretly conducted experiments beneath Ardentia itself, convinced that their work would remain undiscovered.
It did not.
When the Ardentians discovered what they had been doing, the disciples were immediately exiled. Their rights to practise magic were stripped from them, and they were cast out of the very place where they had learned everything they knew.
They did not accept their punishment quietly.
They were furious.
And from that anger, the Veiled Thorn was born.
They swore that if Ardentia would not accept their vision of magic, they would destroy Ardentia itself. They could not defeat the Ardentians through sheer magical strength, so they chose another path.
They would corrupt the kingdom from within.
They began seeking out weaker and more ambitious mages, promising them forbidden knowledge and power in exchange for their loyalty. Slowly, they built their influence inside Ardentia, turning mage against mage and exploiting every weakness they could find.
What began as a handful of disgruntled exiles eventually became a secret organisation whose roots spread deep into the kingdom.
And little by little, Ardentia began to collapse.
The Veiled Thorn had another goal beyond destroying the Ardentians. They wanted the magical relics that had been protected by the Ardentian bloodline for generations. They believed those relics would finally give them the power they had always sought.
But the Ardentians had anticipated them.
As their kingdom fell, they hid their most powerful relics, scattered them across places the Veiled Thorn could never easily reach, and destroyed others rather than allowing them to fall into enemy hands.
The Veiled Thorn searched.
They experimented.
They hunted.
They tried again and again to uncover the secrets the Ardentians had taken with them.
But they never managed to achieve what they wanted.
They could manipulate magic.
They could corrupt it.
They could force it into shapes it was never meant to take.
But they could never truly rule it.
The darker their experiments became, the more magic consumed them in return. Their minds deteriorated under the weight of the very power they had spent their lives pursuing. Some became obsessed. Others became completely unhinged.
And among all the leaders the Veiled Thorn had produced over the years, none were more dangerous than Silas and Vivienne.
Silas was a brilliant and completely deranged mage who treated living beings as nothing more than components in an experiment. He conducted fatal experiments without hesitation, constantly pushing his research further regardless of how many people died in the process.
Vivienne was no less terrifying. Her mastery over dark magic was extraordinary, and unlike Silas, who preferred to dissect and experiment with magic as though it were a scientific puzzle, Vivienne had learned to wield its darker aspects directly.
She was calculating, ruthless, and utterly without remorse.
Recently, however, Silas had taken his experiments a step further.
He had discovered that Solithium could be infused into a living mage under the right conditions. The process was extremely dangerous.
Solithium was known for distorting magic, and forcing it into someone whose body was already saturated with mana should have resulted in catastrophic magical rejection.
Vivienne had survived.
She had even adapted to it.
The first few attempts had left her body convulsing as the Solithium spread through her magical channels, but eventually the reaction stabilised. The mineral no longer fought against her magic. It had become part of it.
The change was immediately apparent.
Her spells had become far more destructive, and the Solithium within them interfered with other forms of magic, weakening magical barriers and disrupting spells on contact.
Silas had been fascinated by the result.
Vivienne had simply been pleased with the power it gave her.
Individually, they were cruel.
Together, they were monstrous.
And under their leadership, the Veiled Thorn became more ruthless than it had ever been before.
They no longer cared about the original purpose behind their rebellion or whether their experiments had any limits.
They wanted power, and they were willing to tear apart kingdoms, destroy lives, and defy the laws of magic itself to obtain it.
Their ancestors had spent generations desperately searching for the Heartforge Core, convinced that it held the final secret they needed to complete the work their predecessors had begun.
Now, they finally had it.
The Heartforge Core rested at the centre of the enormous machine, its ancient power flowing through layers of metal, crystal, and intricate magical mechanisms. It was the final component of their Celestial Harmony Project, the culmination of generations of forbidden research.
The Veiled Thorn knew what the Heartforge was capable of. They knew it could bind souls, manipulate them, and alter the very essence of a living being. They had spent years studying fragments of Ardentian knowledge, piecing together whatever secrets they could recover.
And now, they believed they had finally achieved what their ancestors had failed to accomplish.
They would control the souls of every being in the realm and bend them to their will, turning living people into nothing more than puppets whose strings rested in their hands.
Silas was completely absorbed in his work, making the final adjustments to the machine. To him, the Celestial Harmony Project was more than a weapon. It was his greatest creation, perhaps the most beautiful invention he had ever made.
He carefully adjusted one of the mechanisms and watched the Heartforge Core pulse with energy.
Vivienne, meanwhile, was growing increasingly bored.
She had never possessed her brother's patience for machines and endless calculations.
She was far more comfortable with dark magic, and she had spent the past few days enjoying the aftermath of their recent victories.
Capturing Rhaevan had been satisfying enough, but witnessing Cassiane's death had been even better.
She had basked in both victories.
Now, however, there was nothing left to entertain her.
A loud creak from the massive gates caught her attention.
Vivienne straightened as Malakor entered the chamber.
She gave him a slight bow.
"Hello, Malakor. What brings you to our humble abode?"
She immediately followed her own remark with a shrill laugh.
Malakor closed his eyes for a moment.
There was something about her voice that irritated him beyond reason.
Perhaps it was the shrillness.
Perhaps it was simply Vivienne herself.
Either way, he had to remind himself that he needed the Veiled Thorn until the machine was complete.
Silas glanced up when he noticed Malakor's arrival but gave him little more than a passing look before returning his attention to the machine.
"I came to check on the preparations," Malakor said.
"Oh, only a few final touches," Vivienne replied. "It will be ready."
She walked over to her brother and gave his back an enthusiastic pat.
Silas immediately hissed and jerked away from her.
"You stupid woman, stop disrupting my work unless you want to get blasted."
Vivienne scoffed and took a step away from him.
"Touchy bastard."
She muttered a few curses under her breath as she folded her arms, while Silas returned to his precious machine without giving her another glance.
Malakor watched the siblings in silence, wondering, not for the first time, how these two people could possibly tolerate each other long enough to accomplish anything.
Then his gaze settled on the Heartforge Core.
For the first time that evening, his expression hardened with anticipation.
The wedding was approaching.
And when the machine was activated, the entire realm would belong to them.
(Eh!! I was bored..so another update.. thats all for today..buhbhye!!)