Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 747 747- Gladion Astrid Onyx

Chapter 747 747- Gladion Astrid Onyx

The palace's grandeur was beyond comprehension, with spires that disappeared into heights unknown and walls adorned with intricate patterns that danced with all sorts of unique colours.

The magnificent palace, with its towering spires and cosmic adornments, was a sight to behold. However, its existence within the River of Destiny was like a paradox in itself.

What's more, the palace that was covered with an aura of transience disappeared as soon as Simon laid his eyes on it, making him doubt whether what he saw was real or not.

A palace in the middle of nowhere... was the River of Destiny playing tricks on him? Was it a mere illusion, a tantalizing mirage conjured by the river's capricious currents? Or was it a glimpse into something that existed beyond the boundaries of his current understanding?

Given the nature of the river, it was only natural for Simon to doubt that. In any case, the Yin Yang Koi Fish continued to guide Simon through this surreal landscape, gliding effortlessly through the ever-shifting currents.

As they pressed forward, they approached what could only be described as the exit—a mystical gateway that transcended the concepts of space, time, destiny and even reality.

Somewhere at the heart of this crossroads, a staggeringly long fracture like a tear in the very fabric of existence, ran through. It was as though all things converged upon this singular point, and it was here that the River of Destiny revealed its most profound mystery.

The fracture appeared as a rift in the very fabric of the universe, a hairline breach in the order itself. Looking at that fracture, Simon just instinctively knew it. This was his exit he was looking for, the only thing in this vast River of Destiny that can lead him out.

The Yin yang Koi Fish really did guide him to the exit, he was very relieved. At the same time, he was starting to believe that the Yin Yang Koi Fish might really have a deep impact on his destiny.

Although he still did not know what purpose they served or why they came to him through the [????????] (Abyss) option of his, they helped him navigate through the river, he would be more aware of them from now on.

And so, Simon started moving towards the immeasurably massive fracture. As he stood before it, he felt the weight of all existence pressing upon him.

It was unfathomable to him how such a staggeringly huge fracture came to be in the River of Destiny and who or what had created it. It was a complete mystery, one that teased the boundary of his existence.

Yet looking at that massive tear in the fabric of existence, Simon felt an undeniable allure towards it. It was hard to describe this feeling, it was both nerve wracking and exhilarating.

If he took a few more steps and dived into the fracture, he would be out of here. Who would have known that a place like the River of Destiny really existed in some corner of the universe?

Who would have thought that he would be pulled into such a place on his trip to the Forbidden Grounds?

What's more, him making it out of it alive even after falling into the river. It all seemed too farfetched to be true, yet it was the undeniable reality.

All sorts of thoughts crossed Simon's mind as he stepped into the fracture and exited the River of Destiny.

Was everything that happened in the sixth trial from him meeting Godwin to being pulled into the River of Destiny all an accident, a twist of fortune, or was it part of a larger machination by the forces that governed destiny?

And what ripple effects would this encounter have on the tapestry of his own destiny?

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Kingdom of Blackthorn, Capital City.

Obsidian Hold was a thriving metropolis that stood as a testament to absolute order and authority. Its architecture, characterized by towering spires and colossal citadels, was imposing and unyielding, much like the very governance that ruled over it.

The buildings here had a harmonious blend of elegance and strength to them. The long spires of the towers here reached towards the skies, and the obsidian stones that they were made of, gleamed under the sun.

The city's layout was both strategic and imposing, a reflection of the nation's martial focus. The demographics of the Kingdom of Blackthorn was very intriguing and vastly different from the Kingdom of Ellesmere in that, more than sixty per cent of its population toiled under the banner of the throne, their lives dedicated to the kingdom's military endeavours.

It was a society shaped by discipline and duty, where the concept of service to the realm held paramount importance.

In this kingdom, the concept of individual freedom was a luxury few could afford. Here, the citizens were not at liberty to choose their own professions or destinies. Every aspect of their lives, from their employment to their roles within society, was meticulously decided and controlled by the throne.

It was a nation where personal choice gave way to unwavering obedience.

Being the capital city of the nation, the atmosphere of Obsidian Hold was one of stern discipline and regimented order. The people lived their lives under the watchful gaze of the royal bloodline, whose name struck both awe and fear into the hearts of the populace.

This royal dynasty, known as the "Onyx Sovereigns," ruled with an iron fist, ensuring that every citizen served the kingdom's interests.

In such a tightly controlled society, there was no room for institutions like an adventurers' guild. High-level individuals, those who possessed exceptional skills and abilities, were not free agents seeking their own fortunes.

Instead, they were conscripted into service for the throne, their talents harnessed to bolster the kingdom's might.

Inside the Throne room of the Onyx Royal Palace...

The room matching the ambience of the capital was crafted with dark black stones. Every surface and corner was constructed with sleek obsidian and the dark, polished stone gave the chamber an eerie, almost dark atmosphere.

The light itself seemed to be absorbed by these stones, casting the room in perpetual twilight. Tall spires of black stone framed the space, their sharp angles reflecting the architectural aesthetics of the kingdom and its lost standing traditions.

Despite the grandeur of the surroundings, the Throne Room was eerily silent, devoid of any courtly entourage or advisors. There were only two figures occupying this imposing expanse, seated opposite each other upon the two chairs prepared.

One of the figures had an appearance that demanded respect and instilled fear in the hearts of those who gazed upon him. His tall, imposing figure was encased in a suit of obsidian black armor that seemed to meld seamlessly with his form and he wore a crown that was fashioned like a fierce predatory bird upon his head.

They had piercing eyes, square jaws, long black hair and stoic face that made them appear stern and handsome at the same time. Whether it be their aura or their disposition, they exuded an undeniable aura of authority and strength.

Yet mixed within their presence, there was a faint greyish black eerie energy that gave others an unsettling feeling. The figure was none other than the king of this kingdom, Gladion Astrid Onyx.

Seated opposite him, was a tall youthful figure with a sickly face. Their slender frame was draped in robes of the richest midnight blue silk, adorned with intricate silver embroidery.

Despite their sickly pallor, their face was strikingly handsome, framed by long, sandy beige hair. Their eyes, a shade of deep amethyst, held a languid smile that seemed to conceal countless secrets. It was a smile that spoke of knowledge and cunning, a mind constantly at work behind those enigmatic eyes.

The youth's presence was prominent and did not get eclipsed at all by the striking presence of the ruler of the Kingdom of Blackthorn, making it clear that they were no ordinary visitor.

What's more, from their robe one could unmistakably see the motif of the Kingdom of Ingolf, a symbol of wealth and opulence.

If Simon was here, he would immediately recognise the person, Oman Amil Ingolf, the crown prince of the Kingdom of Ingolf who had once brought his entourage with him to participate in the Battle of the Finest organised by the Kingdom of Ellesmere.

This person had also once tried to make things difficult for Simon in the auction held by Cynthia's Serene Palace Merchant Guild. For them to visit the Kingdom of Blackthorn and even meet its king one would have to think that they were definitely planning something.

Gladion's gaze remained fixed on Oman as he listened to the proposal. After a while, an oppressive aura descended onto the room as Gladion spoke.

"Crown prince Oman, the thing that you are asking of my kingdom is not possible?" his tone measured but firm. 

"Your Majesty should give it some thought first" Oman leaned back in his chair, a languid smile playing at his lips.

"Hehe, it's not like the Kingdom of Blackthorn lacks soldiers. After all, you have conscripted every individual with potential under your banner. When it comes to the knight orders, your kingdom has the highest number of them in the entire northwestern region, no other nation comes close. I'm sure that your majesty finds my proposal appealing"

Oman's words were not unfounded, the Kingdom of Blackthorn had forged a society that valued uniformity and unity above all else.

It was a realm where individuality was subjugated to the collective, and where the strength of the kingdom was paramount.