The Crown's Envoys Intensify
Ebonreach was no longer a city. It was a battlefield, a living stage of shadows and fear. The streets that had once hummed with ordinary life were now veins of chaos, each alleyway a theater of conflict, each rooftop a perch for observation.
Lorian Vale stood atop the shattered spire of the old library, the Echo Shard pulsing faintly in his hand. The Duskwalkers formed a semicircle behind him, tense but ready. Seren's violet eyes scanned the horizon, noting every twitch of shadow that could herald the next attack.
"The Crown's first salvo failed," Lorian murmured. "But now, they'll try something more… theatrical."
Duskwalker Three muttered, "Master, reconnaissance confirms. Elite Crown envoys are infiltrating the city from multiple points. They're faster, smarter, and far more numerous than before. Some carry void weapons that can cut through shadow itself."
"Excellent," Lorian said with a grin beneath his hood. "I do enjoy an audience that challenges my choreography."
Seren shifted uneasily. "Master, they're not coming as a group. They're spreading through the city—stealthy, coordinated. If we split our forces, we risk… being overwhelmed."
Lorian's smile widened. "Then we adapt. Shadows are everywhere. Ebonreach itself will be our ally."
First Contact
Within minutes, the first of the elite envoys made their presence known.
A humanoid figure, taller than any human, cloaked in darkness that seemed to absorb light, appeared silently atop a nearby cathedral. Its eyes glowed with cold silver, and its armor was etched with runes that hummed faintly with void energy.
Seren gasped. "Master… that's one of the envoys. Alone."
Lorian adjusted the Echo Shard in his palm. "Alone, yes. But the city is ours. Watch."
He raised a hand. Shadows leapt from the surrounding rooftops, coiling like snakes. They slithered toward the envoy, converging from all directions.
The envoy remained calm, raising its hands. A pulse of void energy exploded outward, disintegrating shadows before they reached it. The air itself vibrated with power, and nearby buildings cracked.
Duskwalker Two whispered, "Master, this is no ordinary opponent. Its power rivals the Prince's."
Lorian tilted his head. "Then it should be interesting."
The Battle Begins
The envoy moved with impossible speed, a blur of darkness striking at the Duskwalkers who had advanced to intercept. One by one, the warriors were thrown back by the sheer force of its attacks.
Seren rushed to protect Duskwalker Five, her daggers flashing as she created illusions to distract the envoy. The figure paused, its glowing eyes scanning, calculating every movement.
Lorian stepped forward, letting the Echo Shard pulse in his palm. Shadows from the spire coalesced around him, forming a massive, fluid titan. Its arms stretched, striking the envoy with crushing force.
The envoy blocked effortlessly, sending shockwaves through the surrounding streets. Dust, rubble, and fragments of buildings were hurled in all directions.
Lorian's voice echoed softly: "Not quite enough."
The titan's shadow split, forming multiple copies that attacked simultaneously. The envoy reacted with preternatural speed, slicing through each one, but Lorian's final copy lunged, phasing through its guard to strike a precise point near its chest.
The envoy staggered, hissing through silver teeth. "Impressive… Sovereign. But futile."
Lorian tilted his head. "Perhaps. Or perhaps… the real show is just beginning."
The City Fights Back
From the chaos below, the city itself responded. Shadows along streets, rooftops, and alleyways rose, animated by Lorian's will. The rubble became barriers, the fog became nets, the streetlights flickered in rhythm with the Echo Shard.
Duskwalker One directed these movements like a conductor. "Master, the city obeys you. We can trap them in the alleys, force them into chokepoints."
"Do it," Lorian said, his voice calm despite the storm of violence. "We will make the city itself a weapon, a theater, a stage for our performance."
The first wave of envoys fell into the trap. Alleyways constricted as shadows folded like walls, crushing and restraining the invaders. Fires erupted where the enforcers tried to escape, but the Duskwalkers neutralized them before civilians could be harmed.
Seren's voice cut through the chaos. "Master, there are more coming. They're coordinating from multiple rifts!"
Lorian's eyes glimmered violet. "Then we split the stage."
A Split Stage
Lorian extended his hand, the Echo Shard pulsing violently. The shadows around him expanded like ink in water, separating into multiple titans, each under his precise command.
"Each Duskwalker, pick your stage," he commanded. "I will lead the main act."
Duskwalker Four nodded, vanishing into a swirl of shadow toward the eastern district. Duskwalker Six followed, merging into the rooftops as if invisible. Seren and Duskwalker Two moved with lethal precision, her daggers reflecting the shard's violet glow.
The elite envoys advanced from every corner. Lorian waited calmly. When they converged on his position, he raised the Echo Shard.
A pulse of violet-black light shot outward, ripping the first wave apart, the second wave staggered, and the remaining envoys faltered, unable to predict the battlefield Lorian had crafted.
The Message of Chaos
From the remaining rifts, the Crown's voice boomed:
"UMBRAL SOVEREIGN! YOU CANNOT HOLD THE CITY. SURRENDER OR BE ERASED!"
Lorian smirked. "Polite. Threatening. And wrong, as always."
He raised the Echo Shard higher. Shadows swirled around it, connecting with the streets, alleys, rooftops—every inch of Ebonreach became alive. The pulse of his power surged outward, and the envoys were thrown back. Some disintegrated in the raw energy; others fled toward the rifts for reinforcement.
Seren breathed heavily. "Master… the city… it's obeying you on a massive scale."
Lorian's eyes glinted violet. "Not obedience. Performance. Every shadow, every brick, every whisper is part of my story. And every story needs conflict."
Duskwalker Three muttered, "Master, this… this is beyond anything we've trained for. You are rewriting the battlefield itself."
Lorian's voice was soft, almost playful. "Good. Let them see. Let them tremble. Let the Crown understand that the Umbral Sovereign is not merely a boy hiding in shadows. He is every shadow."
The Final Envoy
From the rift, a single envoy emerged last: larger, more ornate than the previous. Its armor shimmered with dark silver runes, and it radiated authority and malice.
"Leader of the vanguard," Lorian murmured. "How dramatic. Perfect."
The envoy spoke, voice like grinding metal: "Sovereign. This city is under the Crown's dominion. You will not survive the night."
Lorian smiled beneath his hood. "Then consider tonight the opening act."
The envoy struck, faster than light, slicing a rooftop clean in two. Lorian's shadow titan countered with a precise strike, forcing the figure to leap backward.
Seren shouted from behind, "Master! They're coordinating attacks with rift reinforcements!"
"Then we multiply the stage," Lorian replied.
He raised both hands. The Echo Shard pulsed violently. Shadows from the city itself rose in perfect synchronization: from the riverbanks, the alleyways, the rooftops, even the abandoned catacombs. They formed massive, articulated limbs, tentacles, and arches of darkness, constraining the final envoy.
The leader struggled but could not escape. Lorian stepped forward calmly, hand raised.
"You play with forces you do not understand," he whispered. "The stage belongs to me."
The envoy faltered. For the first time, it hesitated.
And then… vanished, retreating into a rift, leaving only a whisper:
"The Crown will remember you, Sovereign. We will return."
Aftermath
The city was scarred, but still standing. Shadows lingered, coiling around rooftops like satisfied performers bowing at the end of an act.
The Duskwalkers regrouped, exhausted, bloodied, but alive.
Seren approached Lorian. "Master… you've done it. You've held them off."
Lorian tilted his head. "Held them off? Perhaps. But we've only begun the story."
The Echo Shard pulsed faintly in his hand, sensing the presence of the rifts still open.
Duskwalker Five muttered, "Master, the Crown will not wait long. More envoys are already on the move. They will escalate."
Lorian smiled beneath his hood. "Good. I do love an escalating audience. The more dangerous, the more… dramatic."
He gazed at the city, ruined yet alive, shadows dancing with his will.
"The Crown has declared war," he said softly. "And the Umbral Sovereign welcomes it. Let them see what it means to oppose a shadow that authors itself."
Seren swallowed. "Master… do you think we can survive what's coming?"
He looked at her, eyes glowing faint violet beneath the hood.
"Survive?" he repeated. "No. We will dominate."
Above, the rifts pulsed ominously. Somewhere, far away, the Obsidian Crown stirred, noting the defiance of its named enemy.
And the city waited.
Ebonreach had become a stage for the war of shadows.
And the Umbral Sovereign had taken center stage.
End of Chapter 7
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