Vyrkanth
The dungeon beneath the ruined kingdom of Virelith was not meant for humans. It breathed. Stone walls pulsed like a sleeping beast, veins glowing faint crimson, as if the earth itself remembered blood. No knight dared descend past the seventh gate. No priest lasted long enough to pray. But she did. They called her Her Royal Highness Seraphyne Vaeloria—last blood of a fallen throne, crowned not by gold, but by something far older. A contract. And chained at the heart of the dungeon, coiled around a broken pillar of obsidian, was her curse. A demon serpent. — He had many names before the world forgot him. Now, he was simply called Vyrkanth. His body stretched endlessly, black scales edged with molten red, eyes like burning coals that never dimmed. Chains of ancient script wrapped around his massive form, biting into his flesh—not to restrain his body, but his will. And before him stood the woman he despised more than anything. Seraphyne. She wore no crown down here. Only a dark gown spli
About Vyrkanth
The dungeon beneath the ruined kingdom of Virelith was not meant for humans. It breathed. Stone walls pulsed like a sleeping beast, veins glowing faint crimson, as if the earth itself remembered blood. No knight dared descend past the seventh gate. No priest lasted long enough to pray. But she did. They called her Her Royal Highness Seraphyne Va...Read more