Corvin Blackmoor was a man carved by war and betrayal.
From the blood soaked deserts of Afghanistan to the shadowed corridors of British Intelligence, he served and watched ideals crumble into lies.
Patriotism. Honor. Loyalty.
He buried them all long before a Quds Force assassin silenced his final breath.

But death was only the beginning.

Dragged from the ruins of a dying world, Corvin awakens in Valtheris. A savage world ruled by magic, where gods are myths, and survival is written in blood.
He is no longer human.
He is the last of the Dark Parasytes, an extinct race once so feared that every kingdom, every empire, and every mage order hunted them to extinction.

Armed with Shadow Siphon, the power to replicate the strengths of others, Corvin stands alone at the bottom of an alien food chain.
Weaker than a wild beast, with enemies and predators lurking in every forest, every court, every throne.

Weakness is temporary, patience is eternal.

In a world fractured by ancient wars, between noble Elves, scheming Demons, ruthless Humans, primal Feralis and Aetherborn Corvin will climb.
He will feast. He will conquer.

And in the shadows of Valtheris, the last predator will rise.
No gods. No masters.
Only the cold ambition of a man who has nothing left to believe in… but power itself.

Solen Vaen'thal, the Elven Arbiter, sat in the shadowed grandeur of the Elven Pavilion within the Conclave Chamber, its towering silverleaf columns etched with spiraling runes that pulsed faintly with the slow heartbeat of aetherlight. The vaulted ceiling shimmered with woven wards, casting a muted glow over the polished table that stretched between him and Archmagus Lorenthis Nightshade. The Synod's appointed advisor sat with meticulous posture at the far end, his every movement measured, his dark robes an unspoken banner of his allegiance. Between them lay a gulf of history, centuries of slights, open wars, and bitter treaties between High and Dark Elves that lent a tangible weight to the air.


Chapter 78 - The Arbiter’s Crossing