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After coming out of the last teleportation gate, they traveled their journey to Ancient war ground of gods on Kent’s throne.
The golden throne soared through the sky at a dizzying speed, cutting through the thick black clouds that swirled above.
Kent stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the horizon as the barren, black land below stretched for thousands of miles, devoid of life. It was as if the world itself had been scorched by some ancient curse. No plants. No animals. Only desolation.
Beside him, King Ragnar sat silently on steps, his expression as grim as the landscape. The air was cold, biting, filled with an oppressive energy that made Kent’s skin crawl. He had faced powerful foes, unleashed storms of lightning, and wielded the wrath of gods, but the aura surrounding the War Ground made him uneasy.
Finally, after hours of travel, the outline of a colossal structure emerged on the horizon. A massive wall, standing thousands of meters high, loomed before them, stretching as far as the eye could see.
Layer upon layer of intricate seals covered every inch of the wall, the network of seals pulsating with a faint, malevolent energy. They seemed alive, shifting ever so slightly as if they were aware of their presence.
They couldn’t see anything from above as dark clouds filled the sky above the wall.
The throne came to a halt just before the towering gates at the center of the wall. Kent stood and descended from the throne, his boots crunching on the blackened ground. He felt the weight of the place pressing down on him as if the very air carried the burden of the gods’ fallen glory.
“This is it,” King Ragnar said, stepping down beside him. His voice was low and filled with a reverence that Kent had never heard before. “The War Ground of the Gods. These gates have been sealed for ages, and only the royal family patriarchs know the secret of unsealing them.”
Kent’s gaze was drawn to the gates themselves—two enormous structures that rose as high as mountains. They were shut tightly, glowing with an ancient, magical seal. Each gate bore the weight of countless years, and yet, they looked impenetrable, as if no force in the world could move them.
He stepped closer, his eyes scanning the seals that covered the doors. “What are those sounds?” Kent asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
From beyond the gates, eerie cries echoed. Horrific noises, like the wails of the damned or the roars of long-dead beasts. The sound filled the air, sending a chill down Kent’s spine.
“No one knows,” Ragnar replied, his face darkening. “Some say they are the cries of creatures trapped within. Others believe they are the echoes of fallen gods, doomed to cry for eternity.”
Kent stood silently for a moment, letting the weight of Ragnar’s words sink in. He approached the gate, his heart pounding in his chest. The seals that covered the doors were stopping Kent from touching them. There were thousands of them, one overlapping the other, creating an impenetrable barrier that had stood for countless ages.
“Once the seal is lifted, the War Ground will be open, and the first Spear will be hidden somewhere inside by royal troops. But remember, Kent—this place is dangerous. We might lose a large part of our army here.” King Ragnar spoke while Kent focused on gates.
Kent’s gaze lingered on the towering gates for a long time. His mind raced with thoughts of what might lie inside the War Ground—treasures, dangers, secrets that had been lost to time. But he had no time to dwell on it. He needed to act.
After a long silence, Kent turned away from the gate. “I’ll need to understand more of this place.”
Ragnar looked at him, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Without answering, Kent’s gaze shifted to the long stretch of the wall, which extended for miles. He ascended the throne and went to inspect the wall to one end.
The wall was massive, seemingly endless, and yet something felt off. There had to be a weakness somewhere. The seals were powerful, but they were also old. If he could find a point where they overlapped poorly, where their magic had worn thin…
He continued along the wall, traveling for miles. Finally, the wall connected to a big mountain. He failed to find any weakness. So, he changed direction and decided to inspect the wall on the other side.
He searched for anything—any sign of weakness, any crack that could be exploited. But every inch of wall seemed perfect, its defenses impenetrable.
After traveling nearly thirty miles, he came to an abrupt stop.
The wall met a massive tree. A single, faint line where the seals had thinned. It was subtle, almost invisible, but Kent’s sharp eyes had caught it. The wall stretched high, but the seals in this spot were weaker, as if they had grown fragile with time and growing trees.
Kent’s hand stretched and the Golden Mace gifted by the War God appeared. With a single swing, he brought the mace crashing into the weak spot in the wall.
A loud clang echoed through the air as the mace struck the stone—but to his surprise, the wall held firm. The seals flickered, their patterns shifting to absorb the blow. Even with the divine weapon, the wall remained intact.
Kent frowned, his mind racing. He couldn’t brute force his way through this. The seals were too deeply interconnected. But as he stared at the weakened area, a new idea formed in his mind.
“I don’t need to break the wall now,” he murmured to himself. “I just need to bypass it.”
He thought of the Ghost Shadow Cloak, a gift from the God of Wind granted during beast spirit gathering. With it, he could pass through walls, move undetected, and leave no trace.
If the royal family were to unseal the gates for the trial, it would create a window of opportunity. He wouldn’t need to wait until they placed a spear inside. Also, he doesn’t need to break through—he could slip inside without anyone knowing.
But he needed to time it perfectly.
Satisfied with his plan, Kent turned and made his way back to Ragnar, who was still waiting by the gates. The king watched him approach, curiosity in his eyes.
“Did you find anything?” Ragnar asked.
Kent shook his head, a small, secretive smile on his lips. “No. The wall is as strong as ever.”
Ragnar frowned but didn’t press him further.
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*A big-drama Coming-Up 😉