Across Eternity: Book 7
Copyright© 2026 by Sage of the Forlorn Path
Chapter 18: The Will of Zyrga
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 18: The Will of Zyrga - Noah and his friends head to the nation of the dwarves to continue their fight against the Profane.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Reluctant Romantic Slavery Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Science Fiction Magic Vampires Demons Light Bond Group Sex Interracial Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Fisting Oral Sex Squirting Big Breasts Violence
The next day, everyone packed up their things as per Noah’s orders. They were apparently meant to set out and return to Duravound, though the timing didn’t make sense. Lupin hadn’t fully healed, Seraph was still suffering the blowback from his battle, and what little strength Roc had left, he used the previous night to rearrange Cynatas’s guts. And were they just supposed to walk all the way to Duravound? The question was answered when Hadat and Amor arrived at their camp, leading ten eagle warriors. The realization dawned on everyone, and they weren’t all happy about it.
“Are you all ready to go?” Amor asked.
“Noah, please tell me we’re not about to do what I think we’re about to do,” said Cyrilo.
“If you’re thinking we’re going to fly to Duravound, then yes, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
“Noah, I’ve never told you this, but I have a bit of a problem with heights,” Alexis argued.
“Me too,” said Sophia.
“I don’t like this plan either,” said Shannon, remembering how scary it was to ride on Roroaka’s back.
“Listen, I want to get back to Duravound as soon as possible. I have a bad feeling that something’s going on down there. This is the best way to do it.” Noah then picked up a large bundle of rope and turned to Amor. “Just a few more minutes.”
Using the rope, Noah made makeshift harnesses for everyone to help distribute their weight and make them easier to carry. Roc had carried Lupin by grabbing his arms, but that would get painful fairly quickly. Despite doing it once, he was not eager to do it again. Everyone was nervous as Noah fitted them in their harnesses, even Seraph. He had recently unlocked the ability of flight, but his powers were still on the fritz, so if the ropes broke and he fell, he wouldn’t be able to save himself. Roc and Cynatas would fly on their own, though Cynatas would be using her powers to help support Roc, like she did the night before. Soon enough, everyone was strapped and ready.
“All right, we’re ready to depart,” said Noah.
“Then let the winds carry you to good fortune,” said Hadat.
“Thank you for all your help,” Amor added. “Men,” he then said.
His students flapped their wings and took to the air, awkwardly floating above everyone, and grabbed the ropes of their harnesses with their talons. Alexis and Sophia couldn’t help but yelp frightfully as their feet left the ground, while Shannon screwed her eyes shut and Cyrilo silently prayed. Daniel seemed to be the only one who was genuinely excited. The men of the eagle tribe carried them off, flying over the Ashok Mountains. Up here, the width and breadth of the destruction caused by the battle was clear for all to see, but flying amongst the clouds, there was also abundant beauty, with all of Vandheim stretching out below them. As they flew, Daniel whooped in jubilation.
“We are so fucking Tolkien right now!” he laughed.
They continued to soar, leaving the valley behind and heading south towards Vandheim. Even with eagle wings, it would take two days to reach Duravound, and every second mattered. However, someone arrived before they did. Ragar, exhausted beyond words, reached the fortress holding Zyrga’s remains. He had been traveling almost nonstop, moving underground during the day and above ground at night, using his powers over the undead to increase his speed. Any poor soul that crossed his path was devoured to help him maintain his strength, but he was still wounded from the battle, having no energy to spare on healing.
His peerage helped carry him into the fortress and brought him before Zyrga’s skeleton, fully assembled. It was standing in a massive vat of blood and butchered corpses, like an above-ground pool, which would nourish Zyrga and be cannibalized to help him grow a new body.
“It’s beautiful,” he gasped, falling to his knees in religious awe. As a Profane, this was like seeing God in the flesh, or rather, bone. Right now, Zyrga was just a skeleton, but soon, the progenitor of the Profane race would walk once more.
“Lord Ragar,” Helena said as she and Ziradith approached.
“Are the preparations complete?” he asked.
“Soon. Your minions are making the finishing touches,” said Ziradith.
One of the said minions then burst into the great hall. “My Lord, a group of eagle warriors has been spotted flying towards Duravound! They’re carrying the Wandering Spirit’s party!”
Ziradith and the two Profane felt their hearts sink with dread and burn with rage.
“That bastard!” Ragar snarled. He turned to Helena and Ziradith. “We have no choice but to commence the ritual.”
“My Lord, the preparations are not complete! The whole thing could fail cataclysmically!” his subordinate warned.
“If fate is on our side, then we shall not fail! Helena, Ziradith, you two stay here and activate the ritual on this end. I’ll seal up Duravound. Today, God walks among us once more.” He then turned to his peerage. “All of you, come with me!” Ragar and his subordinates then hurried off.
With Ragar gone, Helena stepped onto a black magic circle inscribed on the ground. As she entered the circle, it glowed with Profane energy, and several lines of runes floated around her, giving her control of the ritual. With flicks of her fingers, she selected various runes in sequence, commencing the process. Throughout the fortress, runes inscribed on the walls, floor, and ceiling lit up, and black lightning crackled through the main chamber. The fortress was now ready to receive the power of Duravound and channel it into Zyrga. All they had to do was wait for Ragar to activate the obelisks in the city and commence the harvest.
Outside, Noah and his friends arrived at the city gates, only to find the refugee problem was worse than he expected. Though they had mostly stopped the Profane wave from the north, the damage had been done, with a growing wave of dwarves fleeing their homes and rushing for Duravound, seeking safety in the mountain. There were so many refugees that they were overflowing from the city.
The eagle warriors released him and his friends, bidding them good luck, then turned around to fly back to their tribe. Everyone was glad to be back on solid ground again, stretching and shaking the weakness from their limbs, but Noah’s instincts were telling him that they had no time to relax and recover. The sky was darkly overcast, and though not a result of Profane power like Miasmarda’s cloud cover, it still felt like a bad omen. His instincts proved correct, as numerous explosions suddenly went off across the surface of Duravound’s mountain and the surrounding mountains. Explosions were happening all around the lake. Was this an attack, or simply made to look like one?
“Everyone in the city! Move!” the guards shouted.
“No! Don’t go inside!” Noah countered, but the dwarves refused to listen and surged past him. He tried again, using his mana to project his voice as far as he could, but if anything, that just scared them more.
“Noah, what’s going on?” Valia asked, trying to keep her balance in the dwarven flood.
“We were wrong about the timetable. Whatever the Profane are planning, they’re doing it now. I think they’re going to sacrifice everyone in the city and harvest their souls.”
Valia’s heart sank. Was this going to be Welindar all over again?
“What do you mean, sacrifice everyone?!” Cyrilo exclaimed.
“That’s why they’ve been driving everyone down here, burning through the countryside. I think they’re going to try to use them to resurrect Zyrga. Ragar said at the party that their god would return.”
Cyrilo’s face paled. “Noah, those obelisks we saw them building for the energy program! That’s how they’ll do it! The runic formula, the giant garbled mess that was impossible to read, we thought they wrote it that way to keep its design from getting out, but they did it so that nobody would be able to figure out the real purpose!”
Noah looked through the city gates. Whatever was happening, it would happen in the city. Going inside would be like running towards an atomic blast, but they had to find Zyrga’s bones and prevent his resurrection.
“Come on! We have to stop it while we still can! To the royal palace!”
They ran through the city gates, only to find Duravound packed to the brim with panicking dwarves. Noah and his friends hurriedly waded through the crowds, but it was slow going. They had almost reached the palace when the city suddenly shook from another chain of explosions. However, these weren’t happening outside like before.
Once as many people as possible had flooded into Duravound, the first explosion went off just above the city gates, causing a cave-in and closing the exit. Every tunnel leading in and out of the city suffered a similar fate, with explosions bringing down the ceilings and blocking them off. The entire city was sealed, with everyone trapped inside. The citizens were panicking more than before, and Noah did what he could to clear a path, stepping on whoever he had to and shooting flashbangs to force people aside as they made their way towards the palace.
Ragar was already there ahead of them, standing in the throne room. King Geord, the last man standing, gripped his sword as he stood by the throne, facing this threat. All of his guards were dead, slain by Ragar’s peerage.
“What do you want, demon?!” Geord cursed.
“You still don’t recognize me, you pathetic old fool?” Ragar laughed, then changing his voice. “Does this jog your memory?”
“Sados?” Geord gasped.
“I’ve gone by many names during my time here, running this kingdom from the shadows. You really think Vandheim has reached this glorious stage of development because dwarves are just naturally intelligent? No, I’ve been guiding the growth of this country for centuries, cultivating it like a farmer with his crops, and finally, it is time to harvest. When last we spoke, I told you to have an evacuation plan ready to shelter people in Duravound for when the Profane started attacking. Thank you for heeding my advice. You’ve helped ensure Zyrga’s revival.”
Noah and his friends burst into the throne room, and Ragar turned to him and laughed. All of the pain he had endured until now was worth it, just for this moment. “Well, well, the Wandering Spirit, exactly where I want you. You’re too late to stop it. This is the beginning of the end.”
“False Arsenal,” Noah cast, summoning an illusory machine gun while Alexis and Shannon raised their bows, Cyrilo and Cynatas prepared to cast their magic, and Valia, Seraph, and Roc were about to charge.
“Like I said, too late.” Ragar then dropped down and pressed his blood-stained hand to the floor. “Dark Empire!”
A wave of Profane energy surged from Ragar, spreading through the floor and into the walls and ceiling, infecting the entire royal palace and turning it into Cursed Earth. But it didn’t stop there. It continued to spread throughout the city, with everyone being assaulted by the unholy power and drained of their strength and mana. This was no ordinary Cursed Earth, but something far more powerful and set up in advance for this very moment. It was not fatal, as that would hinder the purpose of the ritual, but it incapacitated everyone in the city, ensuring they wouldn’t be able to escape, and the inclusion of Cursed Earth would help boost the ritual’s chances of success. Noah and everyone else were brought to their knees by the debilitating effects, feeling sick and weak.
“Take pleasure in this, Noah,” said Ragar. “You, who’s supposedly spent thousands of years wandering across space and time, living and dying over and over, has finally arrived at the purpose for which you were born in the first place. Your life will be used to help resurrect Zyrga. There is no greater honor.”
One of Ragar’s peerage then touched the floor and cast a spell, his powers augmented by the Cursed Earth. The ground beneath Ragar and the others then descended like an elevator, with the floor sealing back up once they disappeared. They were making their way back to the fortress, where Helena saw a change in the runes surrounding her, telling her that everything was ready. With a vicious smile, she touched one of the runes, activating the ritual.
It began at the very edge of the city, all of the outermost obelisks glowing with a dark aura, spreading across the ground like a wall of black flames. It did not cause any damage, but all those who stood within the flames suddenly collapsed, their life force instantly extinguished, and from their corpses, their souls rose. Trapped and bound by the Profane energy, the souls were dragged through the air, visible for all to see. Hundreds of them were flying overhead, pulled into an opening in the cavern wall near the palace. It was a special channel, lined with runes and cables made of magic-conducting material, meant to guide the souls like electricity through a wire.
The channel led out of the city and underground, sending the anguished souls surging towards the fortress nearby. They emerged from a channel exit near the entrance of the fortress, continuing to be guided like water in a canal through the corridors. They poured into the main chamber through the open doors and washed over Zyrga’s skeleton. Both Helena and Ziradith watched gleefully as the souls were absorbed into the bones like a sponge.
In Duravound, the harvest zone was expanding, growing from the city’s edge towards its center. The citizens screamed in terror as they tried to get away. What little strength they had left was devoted to scrambling atop each other in a desperate bid to reach the center of Duravound. Then, all of a sudden, the advance stopped. The collection area continued to burn, but had ceased its growth. Back at the fortress, Helena scowled and cursed as the runes around her suddenly shifted.
“What is it? What’s going on?” Ziradith asked, seeing the flow of souls suddenly halt.
“The ritual stopped working! Damn it, we didn’t have enough time to get it ready!”
“Can you get it going again?”
“Maybe. Come here and help me. I’m not very skilled at manipulating runes.”
As the two women worked to continue the ritual, everyone in Duravound was suffering from the effects of the Cursed Earth, but it seemed like Seraph was hurting more than anyone. He was on his knees, gripping his head and howling in pain. Was he more susceptible to it because of the damage he suffered in the last battle? Lupin was also in anguish due to his weak magic.
“Seraph, what’s wrong with you?” Noah asked, trying to shake some sense into him.
“I can feel it! I can feel an unbearable, horrible evil! Zyrga! He’s not in the city!”
“Where is he?”
Seraph pointed in the direction of the fortress. “That direction! I can feel him devouring their souls!”
“We need to get out of here and find where they’re performing the ritual,” said Noah, though he wasn’t sure how to do it. His own body was racked with pain and fatigue, and he couldn’t activate his magic.
“I can do it,” said Cynatas, floating nearby. Though she was suffering the effects of the Cursed Earth, made evident by her pained breathing and cold sweat, she hadn’t been touching the ground when it was activated, so she didn’t receive the full brunt. “If I use my powers to make Roc and the rest of you weightless, then he may be able to carry you out a few at a time through one of the ventilation shafts.”
“Noah, you should go first with Seraph and Lupin,” said Valia. “Try to stop the ritual on their end, and we’ll try to stop it on this end.”
The situation was bad, but Noah didn’t argue. He simply kissed her and Shannon for good luck. The group hurried outside of the palace, where Roc grasped Seraph and Lupin’s wrists, and Cynatas, clinging to his back, cast her magic, rendering them weightless. Despite her magic, it still took a great deal of effort for him to get off the ground, and adding Noah to the mix pushed him to his limit. Still, with the power of desperation, he flapped his wings and carried the three of them through the nearest ventilation shaft large enough to accommodate them. It took some grace and acrobatics, but they managed to escape to the open air. Free of the Cursed Earth, they felt like they could all breathe again.
“There! I can sense Zyrga!” Seraph shouted, pointing to the fortress on the nearby mountain.
“I need to land. I can’t hold on much longer,” said Roc, still suffering from lingering fatigue.
Meanwhile, Ragar and his subordinates were running along the edge of the lake towards the fortress. The sky was overcast enough for them to move freely during the day, but one of the dwarf ghouls suddenly called out. “My Lord! Look over there!” He pointed to Roc, carrying Noah and the two princes, and landing outside the city.
“These bastards refuse to die!” Ragar cursed. He then looked around. “All of you, get back to the fortress and defend it with your lives. I’ll slow them down from here.”
As his peerage went off without him, Ragar turned away from the lake and moved further inland. Though Noah’s insistent meddling was a huge threat to the plan, the timing and placement were ideal for Ragar to deal with him. When dwarves died, they were naturally entombed in the earth that they loved so much. However, since space was such a valuable commodity in Duravound, burials took place outside the city. Between Duravound and the fortress, all of the city’s graveyards and mausoleums were grouped together into a giant necropolis. Ragar ran past the endless tombs and gravestones, not stopping until he reached the very center. There, he bit his wrist and let his blood spill onto the ground, then pressed his palms together.
“Desanctified Burial. Macabre Craftwork.”
A storm of dark energy surged through the earth as his blood soaked the dirt. In every coffin and tomb, the long-dead dwarves began to stir. With unholy strength, they dug themselves out of their graves and burst out of their mausoleums. Incomplete skeletons that could not walk on their own amalgamated to form golems, and all moved as Ragar commanded. As Roc landed outside Duravound and released Noah and the princes, they turned, feeling the ground shake. Ahead of them, an army of undead was pouring out from between the mountains and gathering at the edge of the lake, blocking off their path to the fortress.
“Lupin, Seraph, are either of you in any condition to fight?” Noah asked.
“I can maybe fight, just not use magic,” said Seraph.
“Not against that many foes,” Lupin replied.
“Lupin, trade weapons with me,” Noah said, handing the prince his sword in exchange for Lupin’s chain. “Roc, go back and get the others.”
Roc spread his wings and returned to Duravound, where things were getting more desperate. The harvest zone, which had stopped its advance, was now growing again. Dwarves screamed in terror and clung to each other as they were enveloped by the dark aura. Babies and children wailed, and their parents fought with everything they had to get them to safety, but they were claimed without mercy, and their souls were pulled from their corpses, being channeled to the fortress and absorbed into Zyrga’s bones.
In the center of the city, near the palace, Valia, Alexis, and Shannon were working with Geord’s troops to try to destroy as many obelisks as possible. If they could just break enough, surely the ritual would stop, or at least slow, but they struggled just to raise their weapons, let alone swing them, and the obelisks were made out of a mighty stone, further enchanted with magic to resist damage. At best, the most they could do was chip away at the runes, but the formula had been written with numerous redundancies so that each obelisk could continue functioning even if some runes were damaged.
Outside the palace, Cyrilo and Sophia were working together to create a counterspell to interrupt the ritual. Like when she and Alexis faced Voraith, Sophia was trying to carve out a small area of consecrated space where individuals inside could escape the effects of the Cursed Earth and cast magic, but this was proving infinitely more difficult. No matter how much she prayed or scrounged for magic, trying to etch some holy ground into the Cursed Earth was trying to dig through solid rock with a wooden pickaxe.
Cyrilo was beside her, frantically checking her notes and copies of the obelisk inscriptions, but try as she might, she could not find any way to break or even hinder the ritual. This whole thing had taken years, perhaps even decades of preparation, and she was not going to find the answer in a few desperate minutes. Daniel could only stand and watch, helpless to do anything. Though his magic could disrupt spells, against something this powerful, he was just a squirt gun trying to fight a forest fire.
“Noah needs help! Where are you guys?!” Roc hollered.
Hearing him, Valia turned to Alexis and Shannon. “You two go and take Daniel with you. Help Noah!”
“What about you?!” Shannon exclaimed.
“If we haven’t stopped it by the time Roc comes back for us, I’ll leave with Sophia and Cyrilo, but I’m not giving up yet. Go!”
As she spoke, the advancing harvest once more paused, freezing up like a cheap computer. Alexis grabbed her arm. “You and Shannon go. I’m not leaving Sophia behind.”
Valia reluctantly nodded and left with Shannon to go find Roc. They joined up with Daniel, and Roc and Cynatas carried them outside, where Noah and the two princes were fighting their way through the undead horde. Though they weren’t very powerful, the skeletons’ strength was in their numbers. All it took was one clinging to a fighter’s leg to slow them down, allowing more to pile on, and once their prey couldn’t move, they were free to begin ripping them apart. It was a fate that the three struggled to avoid, with the skeletons doing everything they could to grab hold of them and pin them down.
Noah was swinging Lupin’s chain, using it like the blade of a lawnmower to cut down the undead dwarves. Because of the height difference, he had to swing it low, while being careful not to hit Lupin and Seraph, but it was working out quite well. The more the chain swung, the more energy it accumulated, hitting the skeletons harder and harder. Even if breaking them couldn’t release Ragar’s magic, each skeleton struck by the chain was shattered like glass, and by the time they could reform into anything solid, the trio had moved on.
While Noah cleared a path, Lupin and Seraph took up the rear, pulverizing the undead with hammer and sword swings. The goal wasn’t to destroy all the skeletons, but simply move past them, and Ragar was steadily retreating back towards the fortress, trying to buy as much time as he could. Roc tried to fly over the army towards the fortress, but Ragar’s peerage countered him with dark magic, trying to shoot him out of the sky. Roc was forced to land and drop off Daniel and the two women with Noah, but now with Valia on their side, they could start making more headway.
Noah passed the chain to Valia, and she ran with it, swinging it even faster than he could. With her elven grace and power of Zodiac, she moved with masterful acrobatics like a rhythmic gymnast, manipulating the chain like a ribbon. She carved a vast road through the undead swarm, allowing Noah and the others to pick up the pace. Seeing them charging, Ragar cursed and was forced to make a full retreat back to the fortress while using every last bony thrall to block the way.
Inside the fortress, Ziradith and Helena were arguing and struggling to maintain the ritual. It kept starting and stopping, sending souls pouring into Zyrga in random bursts. They were also concerned with Zyrga himself. Even after being fed thousands of souls, there was no visible reaction from the bones. They were just absorbing the power and doing nothing with it. The vat of viscera meant to craft his new flesh had yet to even ripple. It was possible he wasn’t resurrecting because the full spiritual power of Duravound, while potentially great enough to revive him if harnessed altogether, couldn’t initiate the rejuvenation process when the power flow was so unreliable. It was like they were attempting to drive off a ramp, but kept hitting the brakes while trying to build up speed.
Back outside, Noah and his friends had reached the stone stairs leading up the mountain towards the summit. It was blocked off with undead, but Valia was clearing the way. Roc arrived with Alexis, Sophia, and Cyrilo to help. There was nothing they could do in Duravound to stop the ritual. The only hope they had for saving everyone was to cut the head off the snake. The group arrived at the fortress and rushed inside, fighting their way through the undead. Ragar had changed his strategy, using the skeletons to try to build walls to stop their advance, but Valia smashed right through.
“Everyone, stop!” Noah suddenly shouted, struck by instinct.
The exit of the spirit channel was up ahead, and barely a second after they all halted, a flood of souls came rushing out, churning down the corridor towards Zyrga. All of the undead in the path of the flood were disintegrated by the raw power. Everyone was left shocked and horrified by the sight and sound. They should have just been disembodied spirits, but they could hear the screams of terror and anguish. Thousands of souls were surging ahead of them, thousands of people whose lives had just been snuffed out, and were now going to resurrect Zyrga. The flow then stopped as the ritual hit another snag, but that wouldn’t last long.
“We can’t let another wave reach Zyrga. For all we know, just one more soul could be all it takes for him to revive,” said Valia.
“This corridor leads right to him. Let’s move!” said Noah.
They kept running, but Daniel objected to the plan. “Is this really the best route to take to get there?! We’re basically running on train tracks right now! I don’t want to be in the way when the River Styx erupts in another flash flood!”
“Don’t worry, I have a plan!” Noah countered.
They advanced deeper into the fortress, soon reaching Ragar and his subordinates, who were holding the line. He was down to just a handful of skeletons and golems, but his face projected his resolve. “You will go no further!”
A sound then echoed through the corridor, the chorus of screams from the tortured dead. Another wave of souls was approaching, and everyone but Noah couldn’t help but feel nervous. Ragar simply sighed in resignation, ready to die if it meant keeping Noah and the others from reaching Zyrga. However, Noah turned away from him and faced the oncoming deluge of souls. He pointed his hand at the wave and pulled back his sleeve, revealing a magical device on his arm. It incorporated Voraith’s black pearl, the gem from Foley’s shield, Bella’s brainstem, and the holy silver and glass from his spirit mirror. He then projected the magic circle for his curse, but it had been altered, now with his unfinished counterspell included, as well as several other magic formulas.
The magic circle, which should have just been a visual summation of his curse, had now become a magic barrier, and the flood of souls crashed against it. Everyone watched in total shock as the barrier not only withstood the almighty power of the harvested souls but absorbed it. This was something that Noah had been working on since Andromeda’s mansion, building it piece by piece and figuring out the runic formula during his downtime. Since his curse was apparently so powerful and near impossible to break, Noah utilized that to his advantage.
The shield gem allowed the spell to become a magic barrier, Voraith’s pearl absorbed the power used against the shield, and Bella’s brainstem and the holy silver and glass channeled that power into Noah’s counterspell, while filtering out any potential Profane contamination. Essentially, whatever energy the shield absorbed was used to begin chipping away at the power cost to undo the curse, and the barrier could not break unless the curse was. It was the ultimate shield against all magical and energy attacks. So long as Noah had it deployed, the only way an enemy could kill him was to truly kill him in the way he so desired. Anything less was just absorbed.
The wave ended as the ritual once more froze up, with everyone staring at Noah in horror. His friends were left aghast, realizing on their own that the souls of Duravound had just been fed to Noah’s counterspell. Rather than the citizens being saved, their souls had just been utilized for something else. That said, if not for Noah, not only would they be dead, but that wave would have reached Zyrga. A morbid method, but it worked better than any of them could hope.
Meanwhile, Ragar and his minions were shocked by this turn of events. Not only had Noah and his friends survived, but so long as he was standing between Zyrga and Duravound, the ritual couldn’t work. He had cut off Zyrga from his path to resurrection.
“Kill him!” Ragar ordered.