Chapter 24: Pale Concord's Gambit
The fires of Hollow Ridge still crackled behind them, but the tension was far from over. As Kael's party stood around the cooling embers of battle, Voruun's retreating presence left a poisonous echo in the wind. The man's parting words clung like ash in the lungs, bitter and unresolved.
Vaeloria stared into the dying flames. "Pale Concord... that name hasn't been uttered in centuries."
Selene crossed her arms, her cloak rippling in the breeze. "So what are they? Just another cult with delusions of grandeur?"
"No," Nysera said quietly, her voice carrying weight like a tolling bell. "They're not just a cult. They were once a sovereign order of oathkeepers and lore-sealers. Priests of truth and balance… until they turned."
Thalaria narrowed her eyes. "Turned how?"
Nysera knelt by the fire, her fingers tracing the edge of a coal. "They believed the cycle of death and rebirth was broken. That the gods abandoned us when the First Star fell. So they sought to reforge the world—not through worship, but through inheritance."
She drew in the dirt with her blade, symbols and runes forming. "They began by mapping divine bloodlines. Tracing the children of gods, saints, and forgotten sovereigns. And when they found enough... they started harvesting."
Kael's voice turned grim. "Harvesting how?"
"They kidnap powerful bloodlines, force them to breed, or worse—merge them. They're creating hybrid vessels. Beings who can withstand the will of ancient relics and dormant deities."
Selene's expression hardened. "Weapons."
"Exactly," Nysera said. "To awaken the Dead Pantheon. The Pale Concord believes once the Old Gods return, they'll crown a new age of divine dominion. And they plan to rule over it... through the vessels they've prepared."
Kael's eyes flicked to Nysera, studying her as if seeing her anew. It wasn't the first time he'd noticed her beauty—but now, with firelight dancing against her skin and secrets spilling from her lips, it became impossible to ignore.
Nysera's figure was impossibly captivating—an hourglass silhouette with unapologetic curves, clad in fitted garments that hugged her voluptuous frame. Her ample chest strained against her snug battle-worn tunic, and her hips swayed with each step like the rhythm of a song only she could hear. Her platinum-blonde hair fell like silk down her back, catching the firelight like strands of starlight.
Even her stance carried an unshakable confidence—the kind bred from a life of loss and survival. Her storm-gray eyes, rimmed with subtle kohl, shimmered with mystery and sorrow. She moved like a predator wrapped in beauty, and even Kael, hardened as he was, felt the heat of her presence linger with every glance.
[System Prompt: Major Faction Update — Pale Concord]
Objectives:
Uncover the location of the Concord's main citadel (Unknown)
Protect bloodline companions from forced harvesting
Stop the resurrection of the Dead Pantheon
Thalaria growled. "So they're creating divine monsters from blood and pain."
Nysera nodded. "And they want me because my Moonmark is one of the final seals. I wasn't just Kaerith's wife—I was the key to an ancient lock he vowed to keep buried."
Kael's expression darkened. "And Voruun?"
"Executor," she answered. "One of the original Oathguard. He turned first. Rumor says he replaced his own heart with a cursed relic—a core from a failed Godspawn. He became something… less than a man. But more than mortal."
Vaeloria's eyes dimmed, her voice soft. "If that's true, then he's no longer bound by the rules of our realms. His power could tear dimensions if left unchecked."
The silence that followed was thick and heavy.
Then Kael stood, adjusting his sword's hilt, eyes scanning the horizon. "Then we make it simple. We trace their bloodline map, destroy every harvesting ground, and carve our way through whatever relic-keepers they've set in place."
Nysera rose beside him, her expression unreadable. "I've got one lead. An old contact. She runs a hidden archive in the ruins of El'Nareth. But getting there won't be quiet."
[Quest Updated — Into El'Nareth]
Goals:
Reach the Archive of Dust
Meet Nysera's contact: Archive Keeper Lythene
Retrieve the Pale Concord's Genealogy Codex
Thalaria tilted her head. "How dangerous is this archive?"
"It's built atop a leyline fracture," Nysera replied. "The air there tastes like blood, and reality bends in odd places. If we're not careful, we'll walk in and never walk out."
Selene laughed bitterly. "So a normal day for us, then."
Kael smirked. "Let's hope your contact still remembers how to greet friends."
Nysera's smile faded. "Lythene's not the forgetting type. But she may not like who I've become."
Selene stepped closer, placing a hand on Nysera's shoulder. "If she turns on you, she turns on us all."
That simple statement settled something in the Moonfang's heart. For the first time in years, she wasn't alone. The fire in her gaze shifted from defiance to resolve.
Kael turned back toward the distant horizon, now veiled in faint purple mist. "Before we go... I need to know. What else are they after?"
Nysera hesitated. "There's a prophecy. The Concord believes one day, a vessel will be born—of godblood and mortal sin. One who can control both life and undeath. They call it the Pale Crown."
"And they think that's me?"
"No. Not you." She looked away. "They think it will be born of me."
Vaeloria's expression froze.
Selene stepped back.
Thalaria's eyes narrowed. "That's why they want you alive."
Nysera whispered, "They want to force me to conceive it."
Kael felt something cold settle in his stomach. The image of Voruun's red eyes, the way he called her 'vessel'—it all made sense now.
He walked up to her, cupped her face gently. "You're not a tool. Not a key. And you sure as hell won't be a breeder for monsters. Not while I draw breath."
A tear rolled down her cheek. She nodded slowly. "Then let's kill every last one of them."
And beneath the mourning skies of Hollow Ridge, the party turned toward the darkened road ahead, unaware that in the ruins of the Pale Concord's sanctum, the old gods were already stirring—and watching.
Far in the shadows of a broken moon temple, Voruun knelt before a pillar of writhing energy. Runes shimmered as whispers of the dead licked at the chamber walls.
"She has allied with the Crown-Bearer," Voruun said.
A voice answered from the void. Not a whisper, but a scream forged into stillness.
"Then let the birthing grounds bleed. Let their fire show us where to dig. And when the next seal breaks… bring me the womb."
End of Chapter 24