The Dragon King and His Fallen Star novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151: The Light Reaper’s Army

EIRLYS’ POV

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Scylla convulsed against the floor, her eyes clouded, her body thrashing as if seized by an unseen hand. Evander knelt, gathering her head into his lap, panic carving deep lines across his face as if her suffering were his own.

I clung to Kierygan’s arm, my fingers digging in as if his steadiness alone could anchor me against the sight. I had seen Scylla seized by visions before, but never like this. Never so violent, so raw. Whatever she was seeing, I knew in my bones it was nothing good. This was something darker, heavier. And though her body writhed in torment, we could do nothing to

intervene.

Her convulsions slowed… then ceased.

The silence that followed pressed in, broken only by Evander’s ragged breathing as he brushed damp strands of hair from Scylla’s brow. Her lashes fluttered, emerald eyes flickering

back into focus.

With Evander’s help, she pushed herself upright. Her legs quaked beneath her, and though his arm held her steady, the pallor of her skin betrayed the toll the vision had taken.

Her gaze swept over us, wide and haunted, as though she stood half in this world and half in the one she’d just glimpsed. When her voice finally emerged, it was no more than a whisper- yet it split the room like thunder.

“The Light Reaper… he’s raising his army,” she said, each word trembling out of her. Her eyes fixed on nothing and everything at once, as if still seeing what we could not.

Her breath caught, and she swallowed hard before forcing the final words out. “He’s coming.”

Kierygan’s hand settled around my shoulders. He said nothing, but I felt the taut, coiled

tension in him.

Evander crouched closer to Scylla, one hand resting on her back. “What else did you see?” His voice was tight, edged with worry.

Scylla’s trembling fingers tightened around his arm. Her pale lips parted, fragile as porcelain. “I… I see it happen on a full moon.”

Ulyanna’s eyes narrowed. She murmured under her breath, patterns flickering in the air like sparks, then straightened, her gaze sharp and commanding. “Three weeks. The next full moon… it’s in three weeks.”

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<Chapter 151: The Light Reaper’s Army

Kierygan’s voice cut through the murmurs, clipped and commanding. “Then we prepare.”

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King Lucius inclined his head once. “I must return to Morvanya at once,” he said. “I’ll gather my armies to fight alongside you in the war.”

Kierygan returned the nod, but before King Lucius and Prince Draven could phase out of Solmere, Scylla’s voice stopped them.

“There’s one more thing,” the seer said, her tone grim. “It’s not a regular army. They… they’re raised from the dead. Hundreds-maybe thousands.”

A chill twisted through my stomach. How could we possibly defeat something that was already dead?

KIERYGAN’S POV

I wasted no time.

I summoned everyone-council members, commanders, warriors, palace staff-all of them. They needed to know what was coming. No whispers behind closed doors, no

half-measures.

A sea of tense faces filled the vast training ground, each pair of eyes fixed on me, waiting for the words I was about to speak. I stood atop a boulder at the edge, Eirlys steady at my side, her presence anchoring me amidst the gathering storm.

My eyes raked over them, and the quiet dropped, wrapping the ground in stillness.

“You may have already heard,” I began, my voice carrying across the training grounds, firm. and commanding, “that the blight which destroyed the fae was no accident, not nature, nor fate. It was orchestrated by a jealous, greedy, and corrupt being who calls himself the Light Reaper. He is no myth.”

I let the words hang, letting them settle. Some mouths fell open in shock; others stiffened, hands tightening on weapons. My eyes found Eirlys. Her glow pulsed faintly as she took in

the crowd’s reaction.

“And now,” I continued, my tone sharpening, “he seeks to steal the light of the last Stellar fae -my mate, your Queen. He wants to play god. To recreate the world in his own twisted image. Understand this: if he succeeds, none of us will exist. Everything we have fought for, everything we have loved, everything we are… will be erased.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some faces went pale; others hardened, resolute. I let the tension linger, then delivered the truth that had haunted me since our escape.

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< Chapter 151: The Light Reaper’s Army

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“He is marching on Altierra. On Solmere. He brings with him an army of the dead. Make no mistake-if he lays hands on Eirlys, his plan will come to fruition. If he does not… then there is hope.”

I let the words sink in, then raised my voice, calling them to action. “Now I ask you: will you protect this kingdom? Will you protect your Queen? Will you protect the life we know?”

A wave of sound rose-first scattered, then unified. Cheers, roars, stamping boots on stone, cries of loyalty and fire. I watched my warriors, my council, my people pledge themselves to the cause. A low, coiled satisfaction stirred in me. They understood. They would fight. And

that was a start.

When the last of the crowd filtered away, leaving only those I trusted most-my council and a handful of key warriors-I let out a long exhale. Then I straightened, forcing the weariness from my shoulders.

There was no time to linger in relief. We needed strategy.

“Listen carefully,” I said, my voice hard and measured. “If the Light Reaper is bringing thousands, we will need more than what we have. We will need an army worthy of standing against the dead.”

I flicked my gaze between Orryx and Eirlys. “Orryx will join me and Eirlys,” I said, my voice ringing with finality. “We ride to Vargheim tomorrow. The strength of the werewolves will be

crucial.”

My eyes cut to Evander, Ulyanna, and Scylla. “The three of you will seek out the witch covens and the human territories. Rally them. Convince them to stand with us. Those who cannot fight-send them across the sea, far from the chaos that’s coming.”

Ashteryn stepped forward, his voice low but firm. “I will return to my father’s tribe. He is their chieftain. If I can sway him, the orcs will join us-and with them, the forges capable of crafting weapons strong enough to cut through the dead.”

“Good,” I said with a sharp nod.

Finally, I turned to Callum and Thorin. My tone sharpened like steel. “Fortify Solmere’s

defenses. Walk every wall, every corridor. Find the weak points-and make them unbreakable.

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