RISE OF EROS-Chapter 698 - 697

The continent was seething with rumors. Stories of Purgatory’s actions and the death of Carcom, the traitor dragon, continued to grow, transforming in every mouth that repeated them.

The rumors were like seeds planted in the world’s farthest corners, germinating in markets, taverns, and noble halls, shaping perceptions and igniting fears. At the same time, in the shadows, Purgatory’s leaders gathered to discuss setbacks to their plans, shocked by the unexpected news of Carcom’s fall.

In the bustling market of Cannaris, where the smell of exotic spices mingled with the aroma of freshly baked bread, merchants murmured as they haggled over prices. "It’s incredible, isn’t it?" said a cloth merchant as he folded a fine blue silk cloth. "First they attack Cannes and now this. Purgatory seems to have tentacles everywhere."

His interlocutor, a younger man holding a leather scroll, frowned. "You say they are behind Carcom’s death? I thought he was just a traitorous dragon who was struck down by his own."

The cloth merchant let out a short laugh. "You think a dragon betrays itself for no reason? Something had to motivate it, and I’ll bet you my best clothes that Purgatory had something to do with it."

A woman passing by, carrying a basket full of fruit, interrupted, "They say Carcom sought something among the dragons, something only they could protect. What if Purgatory used him to obtain it?"

The young merchant shook his head, saying, "It doesn’t make sense. If Purgatory really had a dragon under its control, we wouldn’t be here speculating. We’d be running away."

The woman shrugged, "Maybe they didn’t control it, but a temporary alliance… that’s not impossible." The air was thick with smoke and laughter at a riverside tavern in the country of Rivers. Two fishermen argued over a mug of ale at a table by the fire.

"I heard that dragons tore Carcom to pieces," said one, his voice hoarse from years of shouting over the waves. "It was a battle in the skies, full of fire and thunder," he added. "I heard it too," replied his companion, a younger man in a wool cap. "But I also heard that men from Purgatory were involved, that they helped the dragons hunt him down."

The first one laughed, almost spitting out his ale. "Purgatory helping the dragons? Don’t talk nonsense! Those bastards only think of destroying everything they touch." "Maybe, but if they managed to manipulate Carcom, who knows what else they are capable of."

The older fisherman was silent for a moment, staring into the fire as he drank slowly. Meanwhile, in the gilded halls of Galicia, the nobles discussed the events with the same intensity, albeit with more careful words.

A silver-haired man spoke as he toyed with a wine glass, "Purgatory seems to be behind everything lately," he said with a cynical smile and added, "Attacks on Cannes, chaos in the western sea, and now the death of Carcom."

"Why would they be involved with a dragon?" an elegantly dressed woman asked, with an arched eyebrow she continued, "It doesn’t seem like their style." "And what do you know of their style?" the man replied, leaning forward he said gruffly, "Purgatory has no rules. If they can use a dragon for their purposes, they will."

Another noble, a stern-faced young man, intervened, "It’s a waste of time to speculate. All that matters is that Carcom is dead. The dragons are reorganizing, and that could mean trouble for all of us."

The hall fell silent for a moment, broken only by the sound of a goblet being placed on the table. While the continent was ablaze with rumors, the leaders of Purgatory were meeting in a hidden place, away from prying eyes.

The room was austere, lit only by a few candles whose flames cast dancing shadows on the stone walls. In the center, a wooden table was surrounded by three figures, each cloaked in a distinctive color: red, blue, and green.

The man in the red cloak, who was leading the meeting, slammed the table hard, causing the flames to tremble. "How the hell could this happen? Carcom is dead. A dragon down, and we didn’t even know it was on the move!"

The man in the blue cloak, a slimmer figure with a calm voice, spoke as he folded his hands in front of him, "It wasn’t under our control, that’s clear, but the fact that everyone thinks it was is a problem. It ties us to an action we didn’t plan, nor execute."

"A minor problem compared to what his death entails," the green-cloaked figure interjected, his voice harsh and cold. "Dragons have proven they can unite against a common enemy. That could mean a change in their stance."

The red-cloaked man snorted, still frustrated, "Of course, it is a problem! If the dragons decide to get involved in the affairs of mortals, our plans could become complicated. And let us not forget how this affects our position on the continent."

The blue-cloaked man tilted his head slightly, as if considering something, "The real problem is that we do not know why Carcom acted as he did. If he was looking for something among the dragons, it could be a hint that something else is at play."

"Do you think he had a greater purpose?" the green-cloaked man asked, narrowing his eyes. "I do not know, but his death changes the perception that others have of us. And that, dear companions, we must use to our advantage."

The red-cloaked man stood up, pacing around the table, "Our priority now must be to adjust our plans. If the continent believes that we control Carcom, we can reinforce that fear. A feared enemy is a difficult enemy to face."

The green-cloaked man nodded slowly, as he said, "But we must be cautious. Dragons are unpredictable, and if they decide to investigate our supposed connection to Carcom, we could be in trouble."

The blue-cloaked figure smiled, though his expression was more calculating than kind, "Let them investigate. The lack of evidence will only reinforce the idea that we are more cunning than we really are."

The red-cloaked figure slammed the table again, this time with more control, "Very well. We will reinforce the rumors. Let the world believe what it wants to believe. In the meantime, we will investigate what Carcom was after and why. If there is anything valuable in all this, it will be ours."

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The meeting ended with a silent agreement. The leaders of Purgatory took their leave unceremoniously, each carrying with them the burden of adjusting their strategies in the face of a changing landscape.

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As the leaders of Purgatory schemed in the shadows, the rumors continued to spread like wildfire that was impossible to contain. In taverns, markets, and palaces, the stories of Purgatory and Carcom intertwined, creating a narrative that was as fascinating as it was terrifying.

From the nobles of Galicia to the fishermen of Rivers, from the peasants of Dunnas to the merchants of Cannaris, they all shared a common feeling: the continent was changing and at the center of that change, Purgatorio’s actions and Carcom’s death were a reminder that no one, not even dragons, was safe from the shadows that loomed over the world.

The continent continued to be intoxicated by rumors, a whirlwind of speculation that gave no respite. Every whispered word, every story told by the fire, seemed to fan the flames of uncertainty.

While nobles, merchants, and peasants spoke of Carcom’s death and Purgatorio’s supposed involvement, one figure remained in the shadows, focused on a far more momentous purpose. Crhono, the eternal strategist, was already moving the pieces on a board that no one else could see.

In the markets and taverns, the truth continued to be lost in the tide of words. In a corner of Cannaris harbor, two sailors argued as they mended their nets. "They say that when Carcom fell, it left something behind," said one, a tall man with a face hardened by the sun and wind. "Something the dragons couldn’t destroy."

"What kind of something?" asked his companion, a young man with hands full of fish grease. The first shrugged, lowering his voice as if he feared being overheard. "I don’t know, but I heard some call it the Shard. They say it’s a piece of the fallen god, and that it was what made Carcom go mad." The young man looked at him skeptically.

"A fallen god? What kind of tale is that?" he asked. "I don’t know, but if it’s true, it might still be out there. And I don’t like that at all," the man said in an uncertain tone.

In a tavern in Galicia, the rumor took another form. A group of nobles were discussing while wine glasses clinked in their hands. "What was left after Carcom’s death is not something the dragons can control," said a silver-haired man, adding, "I heard they’re hiding its existence."

"Hiding it from who?" a woman asked, her expression incredulous. "From all of us," the man replied, lowering his voice. "If it really is a Shard, and if it has the power they say, it would be better if no one found it."

Another, younger noble chimed in with a cynical smile, "Perhaps Purgatory already has it. After all, it is no coincidence that Carcom was seen as one of their own". The hall fell silent for a moment, everyone lost in their own speculations. As the continent sank into an ocean of rumor and fear, Crhono moved with relentless precision.

To him, Carcom’s death was not the end of one threat, but the beginning of another, a far more dangerous one. If the Shard could be destroyed, the remnants the dragons guarded could also mean the possibility of ending the threat at its root.

Crhono had begun his work quietly, gathering a small group of trusted allies. They were individuals chosen not for their strength or influence, but for their ability to work out of the reach of prying eyes.

While Purgatory schemed in the shadows and the dragons licked their wounds, Crhono focused on the most important task: destroying the Shard before it fell into the wrong hands.

In a small, austere camp hidden in the mountains, Crhono met with his circle. Maps were spread out on a makeshift table, illuminated by the flickering light of a lamp.

"The Shard must be destroyed," Crhono said, his voice low but firm as he added, "No matter the cost." One of those present, a woman with scars on her face and eyes filled with determination, said, "That much is obvious."