The Glitched Mage-Chapter 54: Echoes of the Past Part 2

The heavy stone door groaned as it swung open, revealing the depths of the forbidden vault.

Cold air rushed past Riven, thick with the scent of decay and something far worse—something lingering. The chamber beyond was vast, stretching into the darkness, the air dense with oppressive mana. Riven's abyssal flames flickered in his palm, illuminating the towering shelves and rows of scrolls that lined the walls.

The weight of history pressed down on them.

Krux and Nyx stepped in behind him, their gazes hard as they took in the vault's contents. This was the culmination of everything the Solis Kingdom had tried to bury.

The truth.

As they moved deeper, the reality of what lay within became clear.

The records of genocide.

Scrolls filled with the names of those massacred. Documents detailing the strategic extermination of the Shadow Kingdom's people. Written orders from the highest-ranking Solis officials, all signed in golden ink, sanctioning the purge.

Riven clenched his fists.

These weren't war documents.

They were evidence.

Proof that this had never been about ending Velmorian's reign or quelling a threat—it was about erasing an entire civilization. Not just necromancers, not just those loyal to the abyss, but innocent men, women, and children.

Entire bloodlines wiped out.

Krux lifted one of the scrolls, his fingers tightening as he read. His golden eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "They kept a record of every single execution," he muttered, voice taut. "Like it was some kind of achievement."

Nyx stood before another shelf, her fingers skimming across a faded tome. She exhaled slowly. "It wasn't just soldiers. They hunted down scholars, mages, and even farmers—anyone with even a distant connection to the Shadow Kingdom."

Riven moved forward, stepping past the records.

Then he saw it.

At the center of the vault, bound in a web of cursed chains, was a woman.

She hung suspended in the air, her body wrapped in layers of dark iron, the metal etched with ancient sigils of confinement. The chains pulsed faintly, radiating power—locking her in an eternal prison.

Her long hair, once silver, was matted and dull. Her skin, unnaturally pale, was marked with the same sigils carved into her restraints. Despite the centuries that had passed, her body remained untouched by time.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

That's…" Nyx whispered, her voice trembling.

Krux's fists clenched at his sides, his golden eyes widening in disbelief. "Aria!"

Riven's gaze sharpened, drawn to the bound figure before him. His steps were slow, measured, as if approaching something fragile. A strange pull, something deep in his core, urged him forward. He lifted a hand, fingers brushing against the tangled silver-white strands of her hair, pushing them away from her face.

She was gaunt, her skin pale beneath the dim glow of the vault. Dark lashes rested against hollow cheeks, and her body, though motionless, still exuded an aura of quiet strength—one he recognized.

The memory hit him like a bolt of lightning.

The battle he had against all five of Velmorian's generals. She had been there. An assassin who moved with the wind itself, her blade sharp enough to cut through mana, her presence like a phantom. He had faced her, clashed against her for mere moments when he was forging his second mana circle.

His breath hitched.

"She's… one of the generals?" Riven murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nyx's expression was grim. "Yes. Velmorian's Shadow Assasin. Aria."

Riven's hands curled into fists. "Why is she here? Bound like this?"

Krux suddenly moved, his body breaking free from shock. "Aria!" He lunged forward, his hands reaching for the girl bound in chains.

The moment his fingers grazed one of the shackles, a violent force slammed into him. Krux was thrown backward as if struck by an invisible hammer, his body skidding across the stone floor.

Nyx was already at his side, gripping his arm and helping him up. "Cursed shackles," she muttered, her voice tight. "A divine treasure inscribed with ancient magic. They were forged to bind necromancers and creatures of the Abyss."

Riven exhaled, his gaze drifting back to the chains that bound Aria. The magic carved into the metal pulsed faintly, radiating an oppressive energy. A prison. A seal. A torment that had lasted centuries.

Without thinking, he reached out, tracing a single finger along one of the links.

Nothing happened.

No backlash. No force repelling him. Only the cold bite of metal beneath his touch.

Nyx's eyes widened. "Riven—"

But then—

A pulse.

A surge of mana, dark and unrelenting, rippled through the air, not from the chains, but from something beneath Aria's feet.

Riven's head snapped downward.

A box.

Nestled just beneath her hanging form, almost as if placed there as an offering—or a warning.

The moment his gaze locked onto it, his abyssal flames flared beneath his skin, coiling like a beast scenting prey.

Something inside that box was alive.

Riven crouched, hesitating for only a moment before lifting the lid.

A deep wave of mana burst outward, thick and suffocating, carrying with it the scent of something ancient.

Nyx's breath caught in her throat. "Be careful, my Liege," she warned, her voice uneven.

Riven's fingers tightened on the lid. "What is it?"

Nyx's jaw tensed, her dark eyes flickering between him and the shimmering metal that lay within.

"That…" she swallowed, her voice barely holding steady, "is Velmorian's armor."

Riven's heart pounded.

Inside the box, a suit of dark metal gleamed under the dim light, its surface lined with abyssal etchings that pulsed as if alive. The plates were sleek, fitted for a warrior whose presence alone could command the battlefield. The pauldrons curved like the wings of a raven, the gauntlets clawed, and the chest plate bore a sigil—one Riven had only ever seen in the forgotten records of the Shadow Kingdom.

Velmorian's crest.

A shiver ran down his spine.

"It's…" Nyx's voice faltered. "It's the armor he forged in the Abyss. He inscribed it himself."

Krux, still steadying himself from the backlash, let out a slow exhale. "No one can wear it," he muttered, shaking his head. "No one but Velmorian."

Riven didn't hesitate.

His fingers reached out, grazing the surface of the armour.

The metal was warm.

Alive.

And then—

The armour launched itself at him, blacking out his mind.

—x—

Riven stood in a chamber bathed in soft candlelight. The scent of jasmine filled the air and a warm breeze swept through the room from the open balcony.

Riven realised almost instantly that he wasn't himself… he was Velmorian.

His body moved, though it was not his will that guided it. Strong hands—Velmorian's hands—rested upon the bare shoulders of a woman sitting before him.

Long golden hair cascaded down her back, her delicate frame draped in silken sheets. She turned around to face Velmorian, her face ethereal and beautiful.

Information came to him instantly and he knew who she was — which made this even more confusing.

This woman was the Crown Princess of the Solis Kingdom.

"Vel," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. Her voice was soft, filled with a warmth that felt like a lie.

He—Velmorian—leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, an embrace not of fleeting desire but something deeper.

Something real.

"I love you," she murmured against his mouth.

And he believed her.

The memory fractured.

Now, he stood in the throne room of the Shadow Kingdom. Screams from outside began to echo through the walls.

The doors burst open and y he golden banners of Solis streamed in like rivers of sunlight.

And at the front of the invading army—

Her.

Velmorian's breath hitched. His love. His future. His queen.

Draped in radiant armor, a divine blade in her hands.

His world shattered.

"Why?" Velmorian's voice was raw.

She did not answer.

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She only raised her sword and plunged it into his chest.

Pain.

Searing, blinding pain.

The divine blade burned through his heart first—then his mana heart.

His power ruptured. His strength faded.

The woman who had sworn herself to him, who had whispered love into his ear, had led her armies to slaughter his people.

Velmorian fell.

Darkness swallowed him.

The Shadow Kingdom burned.

—x—

Riven gasped, staggering backward as the memory released him.

His breath was ragged.

The vault returned, the heavy air pressing against his lungs. The cursed armor still lay before him, gleaming as if it had never aged.

Nyx was at his side in an instant. "Riven?" Her voice was urgent. "What happened?"

His hands trembled.

The betrayal. The agony. The truth.

Velmorian had never planned war against the Solis Kingdom.

He had planned to unite them.

And he had been destroyed for it.

Riven's fists clenched, abyssal flames licking up his arms, twisting and writhing like serpents in the darkness.

And then—

He laughed.

At first, it was nothing more than a chuckle, low and humorless. But it grew, twisting into something raw and unhinged, reverberating through the vault like a haunting melody. His entire body shook, his shoulders trembling as the sound cracked through the heavy silence.

Krux and Nyx could only watch as their king's laughter spiraled into something almost deranged, echoing off the ancient walls, filling the air with something both terrifying and absolute.

"Oh, this is fucking hilarious," Riven wheezed, gripping his stomach as his laughter burned through his muscles. His abyssal flames flickered wildly, feeding off the rage surging through his veins.

"So this is how Velmorian fell?" His voice dropped, cold and venomous. "The great Shadow King, the feared ruler who nearly reached the peak of power—fell in love with a Solis snake and was betrayed?"

His laughter cut off abruptly. His gaze darkened, his abyssal eyes seething.

"How pathetic."

The last word was spat like poison.

Betrayal.

The word echoed in his mind, familiar and bitter, dredging up memories he had long buried.

"It seems we both suffered such a fate," he murmured, his voice softer now, a quiet venom threading through his words.

Nyx's breath hitched. "You… saw?"

Riven's smirk was sharp, cruel. "Oh, I saw. I saw your pathetic former king throw everything away for a woman who whispered sweet lies in his ear. I saw him let his kingdom burn because he was too blind to see the dagger aimed at his back." His voice was laced with contempt, with fury.

Krux's entire body tensed, his fists trembling at his sides. "Velmorian wasn't blind!" he snapped. "He wanted peace! He wanted to unite the kingdoms, to end the bloodshed and create a future for both the Solis and Shadow Kingdoms."

"And he failed."

Riven's words cut through the air like a blade, his voice devoid of anything but raw, seething anger.

"He was cast down from Varethun. Then cast aside by the humans. And yet, he still trusted? Still believed in love? In peace?" Riven's lips curled, his smirk twisting into something cruel.

"He built his empire from the ashes, raised a kingdom that even the dragons began to fear, and yet what did he do? He buried himself between the legs of the first woman who batted her eyelashes at him."

Krux's rage boiled over. "Don't speak of our king like that—!"

Riven moved before Krux could finish.

His fist shot out like lightning, abyssal flames flaring as Krux was blasted backward, his body slamming into the stone walls of the vault.

The impact sent cracks splintering through the floor beneath him.

The air trembled.

Nyx fell to her knees.

The weight of Riven's abyssal presence crashed down like a tidal wave, suffocating, consuming, absolute. The vault itself seemed to quake under his raw, unrestrained power.

She pressed her forehead to the cold stone, hands splayed out in submission.

"Forgive us, my King!" she gasped, her body trembling against the overwhelming force of his will.

Riven said nothing at first. His abyssal eyes burned like dying stars, his presence swallowing the room whole.

Then—he stepped forward.

His hand shot out, gripping Krux by the throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

Krux choked, his golden eyes wide, fingers clawing at Riven's grip.

"Do not compare me to that pathetic man," Riven said quietly, his voice deathly calm. His abyssal flames flickered at his fingertips, searing against Krux's skin, but he did not let go.

"I will never make the same mistakes as him." His grip tightened, a slow, crushing force. Krux's breath hitched, his vision blurring at the edges.

"Because I will never trust." Riven's voice was quiet, a promise laced with abyssal fire. "I will do nothing but rise—nothing but pursue power, until there is no one left above me."

His abyssal power pulsed, black flames curling around them.

"And I will never show mercy."

Krux's vision blurred.

"I will rebuild the Shadow Kingdom," Riven whispered, his voice now an oath, dark and unbreakable. "Even if I must build it atop the corpses of those who stand in my way."

His fingers tightened for one last second—

Then, he let go.

Krux dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.

He didn't hesitate. He scrambled to his knees, bowing low beside Nyx, his forehead pressing against the cold stone.

Riven turned away, his steps slow, deliberate, as he approached the center of the vault once more.

The armor still shimmered inside the box, waiting. It's dark every pulsing and rippling outwards as if excited by his approach. His abyssal flames crackled as he reached inside, his fingers curling around the cursed metal.

It shuddered.

Then, like living shadows, the armor moved.

It slithered from the box like a living entity, twisting and coiling around him, piece by piece latching onto his body.

It claimed him.

And he claimed it.

Riven exhaled, abyssal fire flickering through the blackened steel. His power surged, dark and consuming, as the armor settled into place.

Then, without hesitation—

He turned to Aria.

The cursed chains that bound her pulsed, the divine energy woven into them resisting the abyss.

Riven's fingers curled.

And with a single, effortless motion, he unleashed his abyssal flames.

The dark fire devoured the divine chains as if they were nothing. The bindings snapped, crumbling into dust.

Aria's body collapsed forward, weightless, her form frail from centuries of imprisonment.

Riven caught her.

His grip was steady, firm.

He carried her toward the still-bowing generals, lowering her before them.

Riven's gaze flickered toward the walls. Shelves lined with forgotten knowledge. Scrolls. Records. The lost history of a kingdom erased from time.

Then—

His eyes locked onto them.

The necromancy skill books.

Seven tomes, radiating with a familiar pulse, flickering with forbidden power.

His fingers trailed along the spines before he plucked them from the shelves.

Then, he turned back to his generals.

"Once we leave this vault," Riven's voice was quiet, lethal, absolute, "you will forget that pathetic man."

Krux and Nyx did not hesitate.

"Yes, my King!"

Nyx's mind was chaos. A storm of thoughts, of emotions she hadn't yet named.

When she first saw him, Riven was just a boy! He was someone with potential, yes—but not this.

Not this.

But now?

Her lips parted, a slow, wild smile curling at the edges.

She shivered.

This was the King they had needed.

Not Velmorian.

Not a man who loved.

But a man who would consume.

Riven came to stand before them, his aura pressing down on them once more.

Then he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Abyssal fire erupted, roaring through the vault. Everything burned. The records. The scrolls. The last remnants of the Shadow Kingdom's past.

It was time to erase what once was.

To bury the failure of Velmorian.

This was not his kingdom.

This was Riven's.

And this time—

It would not fall.