Chapter 2719: Story 2720: The Tomb of the First King

The child’s whisper faded into the darkness.

“Brother... come find me.”

Ronan tightened his grip on the sword.

“Who are you?”

No answer came.

Only the heartbeat.

THUMP.

THUMP.

The broken throne trembled.

Lyra raised her bow.

“Whatever is down there, it wants us to follow.”

Kael looked into the passage.

“No. It wants Ronan.”

Ronan stepped toward the opening.

His father blocked him.

“You cannot go alone.”

“I’m not going alone.”

Ronan looked at Lyra.

She nodded and moved beside him.

Kael sighed.

“Then neither am I.”

They entered the passage.

Behind them, the chamber doors suddenly slammed shut.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Ronan lifted his sword.

The red symbol on its blade began glowing.

A narrow red light revealed ancient walls covered with carvings.

Kings.

Armies.

Dead creatures.

And two children standing before a massive throne.

Ronan stopped.

“Those are us.”

His father stared at the carvings.

“No.”

Ronan turned.

“What?”

His father pointed toward the second child.

“That is Elias.”

Ronan looked closer.

The carving showed young Ronan holding a sword.

Beside him stood Elias, surrounded by kneeling corpses.

Above them was the First King.

But something was wrong.

The First King wasn’t looking at the boys.

He was looking behind them.

At a third figure.

A small child.

Ronan’s blood ran cold.

“Who is that?”

Kael stepped closer.

“I don’t know.”

A child’s laughter echoed through the tunnel.

Ronan turned.

“Brother.”

The voice came from ahead.

They continued.

The walls became older.

The carvings disappeared.

Soon they reached a gigantic stone door.

There was no handle.

Only a handprint carved into the center.

Ronan approached.

The red mark on his forehead burned.

His father grabbed his arm.

“Wait.”

But Ronan placed his hand against the stone.

The door opened.

A wave of freezing air exploded from the tomb.

Inside stood hundreds of stone statues.

Warriors.

Kings.

Guardians.

All facing a black coffin at the center.

Above it was a single inscription.

THE FIRST KING DID NOT RULE THE DEAD.

Kael read the next line.

His voice trembled.

HE FEARED THEM.

Suddenly, every statue turned its head toward Ronan.

Lyra drew her bow.

“What are they?”

His father whispered:

“The army he buried.”

A deep crack appeared across the coffin.

Ronan raised his sword.

“Something is inside.”

The crack widened.

A small hand emerged.

Not a monster’s hand.

A child’s hand.

Ronan froze.

The hand reached toward him.

Then a young boy slowly climbed from the coffin.

He had pale skin.

Long black hair.

And eyes identical to Ronan’s.

The boy smiled.

“Brother.”

Ronan could barely breathe.

“Who are you?”

The boy tilted his head.

“You forgot me.”

Behind him, the coffin exploded open.

A shadow rose from inside.

The statues began kneeling.

Kael whispered:

“No...”

The boy looked at Ronan.

“I am the brother the First King hid.”

Then the shadow behind him opened two enormous red eyes.

And a voice filled the tomb.

“THE THIRD SON HAS RETURNED.”

And the tomb doors slammed shut behind them.