A Journey That Changed The World.-Chapter 1471: Capable Of Now

It took Archer hours to finish, and his body felt the strain. He turned to Embera, handing her a bracelet. ’’Use this to contact me if anything comes up, or my wife Aisha will be in touch to help with Duskfire.’’

The older woman nodded at his words. ’’Thank you for helping me and my empire. It’s good to be proven wrong about an infamous ruler like yourself.’’

’’Well, the Alliance’s propaganda machine worked overtime to make me look like the bad guy, but it honestly doesn’t bother me,’’ he replied.

Embera nodded as the two of them started flying toward the Duskfire capital and landed back in the garden. Archer loved her bright orange flames that matched her fiery hair and eyes.

’’Who are you staring at?’’ she commented, grinning.

’’You,’’ he instantly answered. ’’You’re gorgeous, Embera. Is there a husband in the picture?’’

The Fire Elf Empress giggled, which was like music to his ears as she responded. ’’Thank you, handsome, and there’s no husband; he died over two hundred years ago.’’

When Archer heard this, his eyes widened in surprise, but a smile appeared. ’’You elves make me seem like a damn baby as twenty-two years old.’’

Embera’s expression changed to one of amusement as she commented. ’’A Moon, Sun, Wood, Water, and now a High Elf. Are you collecting us elves?’’

’’Huh?’’ he muttered, then realized he was talking about his elf wives and started laughing.

Archer quickly nodded in agreement. ’’Yes, and then there’s Talila, she’s a mixed elf between Moon and Sun, which is fascinating.’’

The empress, her eyes sparkling with mischief, let out a melodic giggle that echoed softly through the grand hall. She leaned forward, fixing him with a knowing, almost conspiratorial expression.

’’What of the High Elves and my race? I see you get on with my daughter?’’ she asked, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of playful challenge.

Archer’s lips curled into a teasing, confident smile that carried the weight of their shared history. ’’I have you, don’t I?’’ he replied smoothly, his tone warm yet edged with a roguish charm. ’’And Ayrenn’s back on Draconia, helping the harem. She’s got everything under control, well, as much as anyone can with that lot.’’

Embera’s eyebrows arched high, her surprise giving way to a delighted laugh that rang like chimes in the air. She tilted her head, studying him with a mix of amusement and intrigue, her golden eyes glinting in the torchlight.

’’Oh, that’s quite the development,’’ she said, smiling. ’’Once you’ve claimed Darkthorne and settled its affairs, we must arrange a proper meeting. I’m eager to hear more about your plans, and perhaps share a few ideas of my own over a glass of starwine.’’

Archer gave a nod as he opened a portal, leading back to the halls of the Duskfire palace. Embera’s eyes gleamed with a fleeting, impulsive spark. She closed the distance between them, her hands framing his face as she pressed a passionate kiss to his lips.

Without a word, she stepped through the portal, her silhouette vanishing into the swirling light. As the portal snapped shut behind her, he exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. ’’Damn older women are my weakness,’’ he muttered.

Moments later, he teleported back to the frontlines, where he met Elara and Inara. The two glanced at him as the Dragonkin spoke with a worried expression. ’’The Demons are forming up for one last attack.’’

Elara pointed into the distance, and Archer spotted a massive army with two people standing at the front. His eyes glowed before he grabbed the lioness as he noticed the life growing within the redhead.

’’Congratulations Lara,’’ he suddenly revealed. ’’You’ll make a great but strict mother.’’

As the words reached their ears, Inara’s tail snapped to attention, rigid as a blade, while her pointed ears swiveled toward Archer, catching every nuance of his voice. Elara, standing beside her, froze, her wide blue eyes betraying a mixture of shock and awe.

Archer’s laughter, rich and unrestrained, echoed through the tense air of the battlefield, breaking the moment’s gravity. He stepped closer to the Dragonkin beauty, his presence commanding yet warm, a roguish glint in his eyes.

’’Let me show you what I’m capable of now,’’ he said, his voice low and brimming with confidence. "Consider it my gift to bring this war on Avidia to an end today.’’

Before either could respond, he launched himself skyward with a surge of power, his form cutting through the air like a violet comet that lit up the surrounding landscape, capturing the two women’s attention.

The winds roared around him as he streaked toward the Darkthorne Emperor, whose weathered face twisted in disbelief at the sheer audacity of his approach. The enemy was clad in obsidian armor that gleamed with evil runes, barely had time to react.

Archer’s fist shot forward, a blur of raw strength infused with mana. The older man raised a gauntleted arm to block, but the force of the blow sent him hurtling backward, his boots carving furrows through the scorched earth as he struggled to regain his footing.

Not pausing to savor the moment, he spun, his tail lashing out like a whip. The Demoness, Nemuia, braced herself. It struck with a crack that echoed like thunder, its impact sending her skidding across the battlefield.

Her feet dug into the ground, leaving trails of upturned stone as she fought to halt her momentum. Archer landed lightly, his stance poised and unyielding, ready to press the advantage as the tides of battle shifted in his favor.

Archer’s feet barely touched the ground before he surged forward. Nemuia recovered; her body was radiating fury as she bared her fangs, her red eyes glowing like twin embers in the twilight haze of the battlefield.

’’I love seeing that look on you, Nem!’’ he exclaimed.

This shocked the Demoness, who beamed in response. ’’It’s good we can end it here, then we can move on to the more important things.’’

Archer was surprised and curious, prompting him to question. ’’And that is?’’

’’Spending time with you and getting to know the infamous Whtie Dragon,’’ Nemuia revealed.

Following that, he was about to reply, but he noticed the Darkthorne Emperor appeared from behind, his obsidian armor dented but intact, his face contorted with a mix of rage and grudging respect.

The air thrummed with tension as father and daughter positioned themselves, a formidable duo against his lone assault. Nemuia struck first, her claws slashing through the air with a speed that blurred the edges of reality.

Archer ducked beneath the attack, feeling the rush of wind as her talons grazed the air above his head. He countered with a rapid jab to her midsection, his fist connecting with a dull thud against her armor.

She staggered thanks to the sudden attack, but she recovered and kicked, aiming for his legs. Archer leaped over the strike, twisting mid-air to deliver a spinning backfist that caught her jaw, sending her reeling.

Her snarl of pain echoed, but she countered with terrifying speed, lunging forward with a flurry of claw strikes that forced him to weave and parry with his forearms, each block sending sparks flying where their energies clashed.

The Darkthorne Emperor roared, charging into the fray to flank him. His massive fist, clad in a gauntlet etched with ancient runes, swung down like a hammer. Archer sidestepped, the ground shuddering where the blow landed, cracking the earth in a spiderweb of fissures.

Seizing the moment, he drove his elbow into the emperor’s chest, the impact reverberating through the older man’s armor. The emperor grunted, his stance faltering, but he retaliated with a brutal uppercut aimed at his chin.

He tilted his head just in time, feeling the rush of air as the fist grazed past, and countered with a rapid series of punches, left, right, left, each strike targeting the Demon’s joints, seeking to weaken his defenses.

Nemuia circled back, her movements predatory. She darted in, aiming a vicious kick at his ribs. He caught her leg with both hands, twisting to throw her off balance, but her strength was immense.

’Oh I forgot she’s on the same level as me,’ he mused.

Just then, the red-skinned beauty used the momentum to spin, her claws raking toward his chest, slicing his skin apart, sending blood flying everywhere. He released her and dropped low, sweeping his tail to trip her.

The Demoness stumbled, but her father was already there, his hands clamping onto his shoulders in an attempt to pin him. Archer’s muscles strained as he broke free, shoving the emperor back with a burst of force that sent the older man skidding across the dirt.

His fists glowed brighter, his dragon side fueling his resilience as he fought both father and daughter in tandem. Nemuia’s claws slashed so many times, each strike a test of his reflexes, while the emperor’s heavy blows aimed to crush his defenses through sheer power.

Yet Archer moved with a grace born of instinct and training, his fists a blur as he struck back, each punch a defiant promise to end the war on Avidia.

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