ã€ŠLord of Wrathã€‹


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    Thank you for your understanding.

 Prologue

    The cave beneath Adanile Palace shook. It wasn''t just a little tremor¡ªit was a deep, vibrating rumble that seemed to come from the very heart of the earth. Something was happening down here, something big. In the center of the cave, an enormous egg, about the size of a person, glowed with an unnatural light. It looked like it was made of scales, and the power coming from it felt... dangerous. It was as if the whole "Promised Lands" could feel it. Every mythical creature, every being with a sense of magic, had felt that wave of destructive energy.

    Angeline didn''t like it. She shifted nervously, glancing at the path ahead. The ground was still rumbling, but there was no turning back now. They had come this far.

    The two figures walked quietly, their boots the only sound breaking the stillness. The first one was a man, tall and stocky, with fair skin that looked almost pale in the dim light. His blonde hair was tied into a low ponytail, and his green eyes were calm, almost bored, as if he didn''t feel the weight of the situation. A light beard covered his jaw, adding to his rugged look. He was in his late twenties, strong and steady, and nothing seemed to phase him.

    Behind him, the second figure was much smaller, shorter than him by a head. She was young, with long, red curly hair and dark skin that stood out against the shadows. Her brown eyes flickered nervously, hesitant to step further into the cave.

    "Stefan..." Angeline said, her voice shaky as she caught up with him. "Do you... do you feel that rumbling?"

    Stefan didn''t look back. He just kept walking, his boots heavy against the stone. "Yeah, I felt it," he said, his tone calm, like it didn''t bother him. "But look, the people in this palace are mad. I''m sure it''s just another one of their weird experiments. Probably something unhumane in this cave. I''ve seen worse."

    Angeline stopped in her tracks for a moment, her feet planted firmly on the ground. She wanted to turn back, but the way Stefan moved forward so easily made her doubt herself. "But... this feels different, Stefan. This doesn''t feel like just some weird experiment."

    Stefan finally stopped and turned, his green eyes softening just a bit. "Angeline, I get it. You''re scared. But you''ve come this far. We''ve faced worse things than this. Just stick with me."

    She hesitated for a few more seconds, her mind racing. Could they handle whatever was coming? Or were they in over their heads? With a deep breath, she nodded. "Alright. I''m with you."

    Stefan''s lips curled up into a small, approving smile. "Good. Now, is your Stealth Skill ready? Or are we gonna have to wait for it to recharge?"

    Angeline focused, a slight flicker of concentration passing through her. "It''s good to go. And the upgrade I got means I can use it as long as I have mana."

    "That''s what I like to hear," Stefan said, turning back to face the dark path ahead. "Let''s move."

    As the two ventured deeper into the cave, Stefan''s pace slowed. He paused for a moment, scanning the darkness around them. "Angeline," he said, his voice low and serious, "I don''t think we''re alone."

    Angeline''s stomach churned with anxiety. She looked around, her eyes darting nervously across the dimly lit cave. The rumbling had died down, but the eerie stillness had only made her more on edge.

    "Are you sure?" she asked.

    Stefan nodded, his green eyes narrowing. "I''ll bet my last coin on it. Something''s watching us."

    Angeline swallowed her nerves. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, I''ll use it."

    She closed her eyes and focused, her fingers tracing symbols in the air. Her mana swirled around her, a soft pulse of energy that rippled through the cave. With a final, sharp breath, she whispered the words to activate her Stealth Skill.

    A shimmering veil enveloped both of them, the air around them distorting slightly as they vanished from sight. The magic felt familiar to Angeline, smooth and effortless, like she''d been casting it for years. But today, it felt different. Stronger. Her upgraded skill made her feel lighter, almost weightless, as if she could slip through the world unnoticed for as long as she had the energy to keep it going.

    Stefan glanced at her and nodded approvingly. "Nice work. We''ll need that if things get worse."

    With a quiet, mutual understanding, they both hurried deeper into the cave. The air grew thicker, and the stench hit them before the sight did.

    Angeline felt her stomach lurch. The walls of the cave were lined with broken egg shells, many of them shattered, their insides spilling out. The corpses of strange creatures, some half-rotted, some barely recognizable, littered the ground. The stench of decay, blood, and something even worse¡ªsomething that made her stomach twist¡ªhung in the air. It was suffocating.

    She quickly covered her mouth with her sleeve, trying to block out the smell, but it did little to help. Her body shuddered involuntarily as she caught sight of a particularly grotesque body, its limbs twisted at unnatural angles. The sight of a clawed hand half-buried in the remains of a broken shell made her blood run cold.

    Stefan didn''t seem as bothered by the smell, though his eyes narrowed in distaste. His mind was elsewhere.

    "I swear, if I have to see one more of these disgusting eggs or whatever the Adaniles are playing with here..." he muttered.

    Angeline looked at him, her expression strained. "What are they even trying to do down here?"

    "Does it matter?" Stefan said. "The only thing that matters is getting our hands on an Adanile Artifact. We sell it, we get paid, we get out. Simple as that."

    Angeline nodded, though she couldn''t shake the unease gnawing at her. She glanced around, feeling more unsettled by the second.

    The further they went, the more horrific the scene became. Corpses lay scattered like broken toys, some still twitching slightly, as though life had almost left them. The air was thick with the scent of rot, and every step felt heavier as they moved past the remains of forgotten experiments.

    "Stefan..." Angeline said softly, looking around at the mess of bones and bodies. "What... what kind of things were they making here?"

    Stefan didn''t answer immediately, his attention now on a pile of debris in the corner. His eyes were sharp, scanning for something valuable. "Who cares? The Adaniles are crazy, and these eggs are proof of it. We don''t need to know what they were making. We just need to grab whatever artifact they''ve got, and we''re done."

    But then, Angeline stopped in her tracks. She blinked, her breath catching in her throat as she saw something that made her blood run cold. In the center of the cave, untouched by decay, was a massive egg. Unlike the others, this one wasn''t cracked. It glowed with a strange, ominous light, and the faint rumble beneath her feet seemed to come from it.

    "Stefan..." she said, her voice trembling. "That egg... it''s different."

    Stefan turned, giving the egg a cursory glance before returning his attention to the debris he was searching through. "It''s probably just another one. The Adaniles must be trying to raise something. You know, to bring in more of their freakish creations."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Angeline''s heart hammered in her chest. The egg was cracking. Tiny, hairline fractures spread across its surface, and the light from within pulsed in time with the tremors.

    "Stefan!" she cried, her voice urgent. "It''s cracking! We need to¡ª"

    Stefan waved her off, still focused on the pile of junk. "Relax. It''s just another monster they''re raising. We''ll deal with it later. Right now, I''m trying to find a gold knife hidden under this thing."

    "Stefan, please!" Angeline''s panic was rising. "We need to get out of here! That egg''s¡ª"

    "I said wait!" Stefan snapped, his voice harsh. "We''re not leaving until I find this damn knife. The Adaniles don''t get to screw us over. They''ve had enough time to make whatever monster they want. Now, we make our money."

    Angeline felt a knot tighten in her chest. She kept her eyes on the egg, heart pounding as it cracked further. The sound of the shell splintering was deafening in the silence, and the fear that she couldn''t shake only grew stronger.

    But Stefan was too focused on the knife, too absorbed in his own world. And Angeline could only watch, helpless, as the egg continued to break.

    Stefan''s hand gripped the hilt of the knife, finally pulling it free from its resting place beneath the debris. "Got it," he muttered under his breath, a slight grin on his face. But as soon as the knife was in his possession, a deep crack echoed through the cave.

    The egg before them¡ªmassive and gleaming like something out of a nightmare¡ªsplit open. The sound of its breaking shell echoed like thunder, and in an instant, the source of all the power they had felt earlier was revealed.

    A petite girl, barely a teenager, emerged from the egg, her fragile body trembling. Her pale white skin seemed almost translucent in the dim light. She had long black hair that cascaded down her back and blood-red eyes that blinked against the light. A dragon tattoo, intricate and winding, ran down her back, the scales seeming to shimmer even in her confused state.

    The girl''s gaze darted around the room as if trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her red eyes landed on Stefan, and for a moment, they locked. Then, with a struggle, the girl opened her mouth.

    "Papa..." she whispered, her voice slow and weak, like she was learning to speak for the first time.

    Stefan froze, his jaw going slack as he stared at the girl. He had expected many things, but not this. Not this. Angeline''s breath caught beside him. Neither of them could move.

    But before any of them could process what was happening, a faint clinking of metal reached their ears. Footsteps, heavy with the weight of armor, echoed from the distant passage. Voices murmured, growing louder. Someone was coming.

    "Stefan!" Angeline hissed, "We need to get out of here, now!"

    Stefan''s hand shot out, grabbing Angeline''s arm, and yanked her toward the shadows.

    "Not without the girl," Angeline said firmly, her eyes wide, her voice tight with worry. "This is dangerous! She''s in danger. Who knows what they''ll do to her."

    Stefan snapped, a bit sharper than he intended. "I couldn''t care less right now, Angeline. We need to move¡ªnow."

    His eyes flicked over the girl, still struggling to fully emerge from the broken eggshell, her tiny hands reaching out helplessly.

    Angeline hesitated, but then she saw it too. The girl, trembling and confused, crawled weakly toward Stefan as though searching for something, someone to protect her¡ªlike a child trying to reach their mother. Angeline''s heart wrenched, but Stefan was already moving.

    Sighing, he muttered under his breath, "Fine. Damn it."

    He walked back toward the girl, bending down as his cloak swirled around him. With a swift motion, he wrapped the girl''s frail form in the dark fabric, lifting her with ease and draping her over his shoulder. She was light, almost too light, like a porcelain doll. Her body was still trembling against him, and though she seemed so fragile, Stefan handled her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

    With the girl secured, Stefan turned, looking toward the dark path they had come from. "Let''s move." His voice was low but urgent.

    They hurried through the cave''s twisting corridors, the echoing footsteps of the knights growing louder behind them. The pressure in the air was thick with the realization that time was running out. As they reached the cave''s exit, the sight of golden armor flashed in the distance. Adanile knights.

    Stefan cursed under his breath. They had to be quick.

    But as they rounded a corner, Angeline''s Stealth Skill suddenly fizzled out. She had overextended her mana. The shimmer of magic around them vanished like smoke.

    Busted.

    The knights froze as their eyes caught sight of Stefan and Angeline. Their armor gleamed in the dim light, their Adanile family crest clear on their chest plates.

    "Who goes there?" one of the knights called.

    Stefan didn''t hesitate. He immediately put his hand on Angeline''s shoulder, pushing her back into the shadows. But before they could vanish, Angeline''s voice trembled. "Sorry! I¡ªI panicked!"

    The knights turned, their eyes narrowing. One of them stepped forward, raising his sword. "You''re trespassing, and the punishment for that is death."

    Stefan glared, trying to think fast. "We''re not here for trouble, alright? We were just passing through." His voice was calm, but his fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword.

    "Lies!" The knight shouted. "You''re involved in something far worse than a mere trespass." His gaze flickered to the girl still slung over Stefan''s shoulder. "What is this? Who is she?"

    Stefan''s face hardened. "None of your business." He shifted his stance, ready to defend himself. "Now step aside."

    Stefan didn''t wait another second. With a swift motion, he unsheathed his sword, Igniter, and flames erupted along its edge, crackling like fire itself.

    Without a word, he lunged at the knight, swinging the blade with expert precision. The knight raised his shield, ready to block, and Stefan''s sword collided with it in a deafening clash. Sparks flew, and the fire around Igniter seemed to sizzle against the metal. But something was wrong.

    Stefan''s brow furrowed. The sword hadn''t even left a scorch mark on the knight''s enchanted armor. It was as if the blade had hit a wall of stone, not metal. The knight smirked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Did you really think that would work?"

    Stefan didn''t answer. His grip tightened on the hilt of the sword, eyes narrowing as he prepared for another strike. He had to get through this. They had no time for delays.

    Angeline, seeing the struggle, stepped forward. She muttered something under her breath, raising her hands toward the sky. "Firebolt!" she called out, launching a quick burst of flame at one of the knights.

    The bolt hit the knight''s armor, but just like Stefan''s sword, it barely left a mark. He laughed, raising his shield and brushing off the attack. "Weak."

    Angeline''s face turned pale with frustration. She wasn''t strong enough¡ªyet. "Stefan, we need a plan!"

    But Stefan was already in motion. With a fluid movement, he dodged a swing from the knight, using his left arm to parry the blow while keeping the girl secured on his right shoulder. He fought with the skill of a master, every movement precise, every counterattack perfectly timed.

    But despite his speed and strength, the knights'' armor was proving too strong. Stefan''s Igniter couldn''t burn through it, and Angeline''s spells weren''t enough to pierce the enchanted shields.

    Then, it clicked. Stefan''s eyes darted to the golden Adanile knife sheathed at his waist. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "I forgot about you," he muttered to himself.

    With a swift motion, he threw Igniter to the side, the flaming sword clattering against the cave floor. He drew the knife, feeling a surge of energy course through him. He''d unlocked something.

    "Golden Strike," Stefan muttered under his breath, the words carrying a weight of power. Instantly, the blade began to glow with golden light, and Stefan could feel the heat in his veins. His next attack would be different.

    In one smooth motion, he lunged at the knight in front of him. His knife sliced through the air, and this time, it didn''t stop at the armor. The golden blade slid into the knight''s enchanted plate, cutting through it like butter. The knight gasped, his eyes wide with surprise, but before he could react, Stefan pulled the knife free and delivered another strike¡ªthis time to the knight''s chest, piercing deep.

    Angeline''s eyes widened in shock, but she wasn''t done either. "Ice Wall!" she cried, summoning a barrier of ice between them and the remaining knights. The knights staggered back, momentarily disoriented by the sudden shift in the air. But it wasn''t enough. They were already too close.

    Stefan used the distraction to his advantage, spinning with incredible speed, his golden knife cutting through the air in a flurry of deadly strikes. Knight after knight fell, unable to withstand the combined power of Stefan''s skill and Angeline''s spells. The girl on his shoulder was still shaking, but Stefan fought with ease, his movements fluid even with the extra weight.

    Stefan''s last strike came in a flash¡ªa thrust of his golden knife that pierced the final knight''s heart, dropping him to the ground with a thud. He stood still for a moment, breathing heavily, before he turned back to Angeline, his face set in a grim expression.

    "That should be the last of them," he said, his voice low and calm, though his body still buzzed with the adrenaline of the fight.

    Angeline, still panting, lowered her hands from the spell she''d been holding. "That was... too close. But you did it. You actually did it."

    Stefan wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze flicking back to the girl on his shoulder. "It wasn''t easy, but we don''t have time to celebrate. We need to get out of here."

    The girl stirred weakly, and Stefan adjusted her on his shoulder, trying to be as gentle as possible. "Hang on. We''re almost out."

    With one last look at the fallen knights, Stefan turned and motioned for Angeline to follow him. Together, they hurried back toward the outskirts

 Chapter 1

    From the grand balcony of the Adanile palace, Queen Cole''lai stood in quiet observation, her piercing red eyes gazing down at the distant outskirts. The night air was cool.  A gentle breeze swept through her long, flowing green hair, strands dancing like silk in the wind.

    She leaned against the marble railing, one hand delicately resting on it while the other held a crystal goblet, half-filled with deep crimson wine. The glass tilted slightly as she swirled the liquid absentmindedly.

    Her gown clung to her slender figure, the black velvet cascading like liquid shadow down to the floor. The plunging neckline revealed just enough to be daring yet regal, the golden necklace resting against her pale skin.

    Diamond earrings caught the dim moonlight, sparkling with every subtle tilt of her head. Even her gold sandals, barely peeking from beneath the hem of her dress, seemed to complete the effortless perfection of her presence.

    Just as many people had said, she was the most beautiful woman. Beautiful but cruel.

    Behind her, the rhythmic clang of armored boots approached. A knight, clad in the signature golden armor of Adanile, knelt before her and bowed his head.

    "My Queen," he began, "The intruders¡ª"

    "I already know," Cole''lai interrupted, her gaze never leaving the horizon. She took a slow sip of her wine, savoring it before lowering the goblet.

    The knight hesitated before speaking again. "Shall we send a unit to pursue them?"

    For the first time, Cole''lai turned her head slightly, just enough for her crimson eyes to meet his from the corner of her gaze. A faint, knowing smile graced her lips, barely noticeable yet undeniably present.

    "There''s no need," she said, "I have something else in mind."

    The knight remained silent, waiting for her next command.

    "Summon the royal messenger," Cole''lai ordered, turning her attention back to the night sky. "I have a message to send."

    Without hesitation, the knight stood and bowed deeply before retreating to fulfill her command.

    As his footsteps faded, Queen Cole''lai took another sip of her wine.

    -

    The Laughing Skull Tavern sat at the edge of the outskirts, its wooden beams creaking with the weight of the night. The air inside was thick with the stench of ale and smoke, the last of the night''s patrons either slumped over their drinks or barely conscious in their seats. The bartender wiped a stained mug with little effort, already half-asleep behind the counter. It was almost closing time, and soon, the place would be empty.

    Angeline moved carefully through the dimly lit room, keeping her head down as she guided the girl toward the darkest corner. The child, still wrapped in Stefan''s cloak, clung to the fabric with small, trembling fingers. Her red eyes darted around, taking in her surroundings with silent curiosity.

    "Here," Angeline whispered, nudging the girl into a seat against the wall. She pressed a reassuring hand on the girl''s shoulder before sliding into the chair beside her.

    Stefan arrived a moment later, dropping onto the bench with a heavy sigh. His clothes were still smeared with dried blood and dirt from their escape, but his focus wasn''t on himself¡ªit was on the weapon in his hands.

    The golden knife.

    He turned it over, watching how the dim candlelight reflected off its wickedly sharp edge. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "This thing," he muttered, "it cut through enchanted armor like it was nothing."

    Angeline leaned forward, watching the blade warily. "Then we should keep it," she suggested. "A weapon like that could save us more than once."

    Stefan exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "No. I''m selling it."

    Angeline blinked, caught off guard by his immediate rejection. "Why?" she pressed, her brows furrowing. "That thing could be worth more than gold in a fight."

    Wordlessly, Stefan flipped the knife over, revealing the underside of the handle.

    Angeline sucked in a breath.

    The handle wasn''t solid gold like the rest of the blade. No¡ªit was something else entirely. Something living. The grip was made of dark, pulsating flesh, its surface veined and swollen like raw muscle. Embedded deep within it, a bulging mass beat in a slow, sickening rhythm¡ªlike a heart, pumping with grotesque life.

    Angeline swallowed, feeling bile rise in her throat. "What... what the hell is that?" she whispered.

    Stefan''s expression was grim. "That," he muttered, "is why I''m selling it."

    Stefan exhaled and placed the knife onto the worn wooden table. The dull candlelight flickered against its golden edge, but his eyes weren''t on the blade anymore. Something else had caught his attention.

    Through the round window of the tavern, just beyond the glass fogged by the warmth of the room, a figure stood. Cloaked in shadow, the man''s face was hidden, but there was no mistaking it¡ªhe was watching them.

    Stefan tensed.

    "Stay here until the buyer comes," he muttered to Angeline, already pushing himself up.

    "Wait, what¡ª"

    But he was already moving, slipping through the door before she could protest.

    At the same moment, another figure entered.

    The buyer.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    A plump old man waddled inside, draped in expensive purple robes embroidered with gold thread. His round face, covered in a sheen of sweat, twisted in open disgust as he took in the tavern''s rough and dirty interior. His thick, bejeweled fingers twitched as though resisting the urge to touch anything. But then his gaze found Angeline, and his frown curled into a satisfied grin.

    Angeline, still feeling nauseous from the last conversation, sighed as the man approached.

    "Ah, you must be the seller''s companion." The old man''s voice was thick and syrupy, his tone oozing false charm. "I believe you have something for me?"

    "Yeah," Angeline said flatly, jerking her thumb toward the table. "It''s right there."

    The man turned his gaze to the knife, his eyes widening with a sick sort of delight. Unlike Angeline, who refused to even touch the thing, he reached for it eagerly, lifting it with reverence.

    His fingers traced the pulsating flesh of the handle, watching as the grotesque heart throbbed against his palm. Then, to Angeline''s absolute horror, he leaned in¡ªhis thick tongue slithering out¡ªand gave the handle a slow, deliberate lick.

    Angeline recoiled so violently she nearly toppled out of her seat. "Are you serious?!" she gagged.

    The man sighed in delight, smacking his lips. "It''s alive," he murmured, almost lovingly.

    "You don''t have to tell me twice," Angeline snapped, wiping at her mouth as if that would cleanse her of the secondhand disgust.

    The man chuckled and dropped a heavy coin sack onto the table. Gold clinked against wood. But his attention had already shifted.

    His gaze slid past Angeline¡ªpast the knife¡ªand landed on the girl.

    The small, red-eyed girl still wrapped in Stefan''s cloak, sitting quietly in the shadows.

    The man''s lips curled, his gaze turning greedy.

    "And what about this little thing?" he mused, stepping closer. "How much for her?"

    Angeline stiffened instantly. "She''s not for sale."

    The man hummed, tilting his head. "I''ll pay double."

    Angeline''s glare sharpened. "And I''ll give you triple¡ª" she cracked her knuckles, "¡ªpunches."

    A flicker of annoyance crossed the man''s face, but he let out a breathy chuckle and took a step back. "What a shame," he muttered, casting one last lingering look at the girl before tucking the knife beneath his robes.

    Then, with a huff, he turned and stomped out of the tavern, his heavy steps shaking the floorboards.

    Angeline exhaled, leaning back against the chair. "Creepy old bastard."

    The girl, still silent, clutched the cloak tighter around herself.

    Meanwhile, as Stefan stepped into the cold night, the door of the tavern swinging shut behind him. The streets were mostly empty, save for one figure standing beneath the flickering glow of a street lantern.

    The cloaked man.

    Stefan narrowed his eyes and strode forward, calling out, "You''ve been staring at us for a while now. What do you want?"

    The figure let out a soft chuckle, then reached up and pulled back his hood.

    Stefan froze.

    Beneath the cloak was an old man with thinning silver hair and sharp, knowing eyes. A face Stefan had not seen in years¡ªone he had never expected to see again.

    "Elijah?" His voice was thick with disbelief.

    The old man smiled. "It''s been a while, young master."

    Stefan''s stomach twisted at the title, but he quickly shoved the feeling down. He crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "What are you doing here?"

    Elijah stepped forward, his movements graceful despite his age. "I''ve come to bring you back," he said simply.

    Stefan scoffed. "Back where?"

    "To the Blanc Mansion," Elijah replied, his voice calm but insistent. "Where you belong."

    Stefan''s jaw clenched. "I don''t belong there."

    Elijah ignored him, his gaze steady. "You need to retrieve the [White Sword], Stefan. The prophecy¡ª"

    "There is no prophecy!" Stefan snapped, his voice sharp with anger. "I am not the man you think I am."

    Elijah didn''t flinch. "And yet, I''ve seen you wield a golden blade that belonged to the Adanile family and cut down their knights with it. Fate has already set things in motion."

    Stefan shook his head, his fists tightening. "I''m not going back. That mansion is nothing but skulls and bones now."

    "You could change that." Elijah''s voice softened. "You could restore the Blanc Family to its former glory."

    Stefan let out a humorless laugh. "I don''t want to. I have a life now, and I''m satisfied with it."

    Elijah sighed, studying Stefan''s face as if searching for something. But whatever he saw, it was enough. His shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, his expression showed a hint of sadness.

    "Very well," he said at last. "I won''t force you."

    Stefan exhaled, relieved the conversation was over. He turned away, ready to leave.

    But just as he stepped past, Elijah spoke one last time.

    "I still have faith in you, young master."

    Stefan didn''t respond. He walked back into the tavern without looking back.

    Elijah stood under the dim lantern light, watching him go. Then, with a quiet sigh, he pulled his hood back up and disappeared into the night. Stefan pushed open the tavern door and stepped inside, rolling his shoulders to shake off the cold.

    His eyes immediately found Angeline, seated in the farthest, darkest corner of the room with the girl curled up beside her. But what caught his attention wasn''t the girl¡ªit was Angeline''s scowl.

    He raised an eyebrow as he made his way over. "What''s with that look? Don''t tell me the buyer was a scam."

    Angeline crossed her arms. "Oh, he paid. And very generously at that."

    Stefan pulled out a chair and dropped into it, stretching out his legs. "Then what''s the problem?"

    "The problem is that he was a sick pervert."

    Stefan blinked, then burst out laughing. "Of course he was."

    Angeline scowled harder. "He licked the damn knife, Stefan! Licked it! I almost threw up. And...AND he tried to buy HER?!"

    That only made Stefan laugh more. He leaned back, shaking his head. "Well, at least we won''t have to deal with him much longer."

    Angeline frowned. "What do you mean?"

    Stefan smirked. "It''s only a matter of time before the royal family finds out he has the knife. When that happens, they''ll either kill him or worse¡ªturn him into one of their little... experiments."

    For a moment, Angeline sat in silence, absorbing his words. It should have disturbed her. It did, in a way. But then again, after seeing what the Adanile family was capable of, she wasn''t exactly inclined to feel sorry for the perverted old man.

    "Huh." She tilted her head, "That''s... actually kind of funny."

    "Exactly." Stefan chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. Then his gaze drifted to the girl, who was sitting quietly, her wide red eyes locked onto him.

    "Well," he said, "I know an orphanage back in town. We can drop her off there."

    Angeline''s head snapped toward him. "What?"

    "The girl needs a place to stay." He shrugged. "That place takes in strays like her all the time."

    Angeline looked at him like he''d grown two heads. "And what if someone adopts her for... I don''t know, selfish gains? Like that disgusting buyer earlier?"

    Stefan exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Angeline, she''s not human. She can defend herself."

    Angeline jabbed a finger at him. "She''s a teenager with the mind of an infant! That''s not defending herself¡ªthat''s being completely vulnerable."

    Stefan groaned. "Angeline, this girl came from the Adanile''s experiments. That alone makes her dangerous."

    "The world is more dangerous," Angeline shot back.

    Their argument escalated, both of them leaning in, voices hushed but heated. The girl watched them curiously, tilting her head from one to the other as if trying to understand.

    "This girl thinks you''re her father!"

    "I don''t care. She didn''t come from my dick!"

    "What? Don''t you feel bad towards her?"

    "Oh, I feel bad, alright?... TO MYSELF!"

    "Why are you so selfish?!"

    Then, just as Stefan was about to snap back, Angeline narrowed her eyes and smirked. "You do remember that you live here for free, right?"

    Stefan''s mouth opened¡ªthen snapped shut.

    Angeline leaned back, triumphant. "It''s only fair that you do something for me in return."

    Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose. "You''re using your father''s tavern against me?"

    "I''m using common sense."

    Stefan exhaled sharply, glancing at the girl one last time before shaking his head in defeat. "Fine. But let''s be clear¡ªI''m only helping raise her. I''m not actually adopting her."

    Angeline smiled, satisfied. "Good enough."

    Stefan muttered something under his breath and slouched in his chair. The girl, seemingly oblivious to the entire argument, simply stared at him with those strange, piercing red eyes.

    Something told Stefan he was going to regret this.

 Chapter 2

    As Angeline stood up from the table, she dusted off her skirt and stretched. "I''ll go see if I have some old dresses lying around. She can''t just sit here wrapped in a cloak forever."

    Stefan waved her off, his attention shifting back to the girl, who was still sitting beside him, silent and unmoving. He tapped his fingers against the table in thought before sighing.

    "We can''t keep calling you ''girl,''" he said, eyeing her. "Do you have a name?"

    The girl tilted her head, blinking at him in confusion.

    Stefan exhaled through his nose and pinched the bridge of it. "Right. Of course, you don''t. Why would you? You just hatched from a damn egg." He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "What am I doing talking to a manmade monster like you and expecting an answer?"

    The girl didn''t react to his words¡ªshe only stared.

    Stefan rested his elbow on the table and studied her. His mind drifted to the intricate dragon tattoo on her back, the dark ink curling along her pale skin. That thing wasn''t just decoration. It had to mean something. Maybe a mark of ownership, a spell, or something much worse.

    But now wasn''t the time to dwell on that.

    He crossed his arms and thought for a moment before finally coming to a conclusion. "Vul," he muttered.

    The girl blinked, her red eyes locked onto him.

    Stefan nodded to himself. "Yeah. Vul. Short for Vulcan."

    It made sense. Dragons in the Promised Lands were known to reside in volcanoes, their scales hardened by molten rock and their wings cutting through the smoke-filled sky. If she had some kind of connection to dragons, then the name was fitting enough.

    The moment the girl¡ªno, Vul¡ªheard it, her eyes widened with something resembling understanding. A bright smile spread across her face, pure and childlike.

    "Vul," she echoed softly, as if tasting the word. Then again, a little stronger. "Vul!"

    Stefan raised an eyebrow at her excitement. "Glad you like it."

    Vul nodded enthusiastically, clutching the cloak around her tighter as if she had just been given the most precious gift in the world.

    Stefan exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

    Great. Now he was naming her too.

    Angeline returned, carrying a small dress over her shoulder. It was a simple white frock with soft lace at the hems, something she used to wear when she was younger. As she approached the table, she caught sight of Vul, her eyes bright and her lips curled into a delighted smile, still repeating her new name under her breath like it was a precious secret. But what caught Angeline''s attention even more was Stefan, sitting across from her, arms crossed, looking like he had just lost a battle he didn''t even remember fighting.

    Angeline smirked, holding back a chuckle. "Aww, look at you two! Already bonding like a little family? Stefan, I didn''t know you had a soft side."

    Stefan immediately shot her a glare. "Tch. Don''t start."

    But Angeline leaned on the table, grinning. "You named her, Stefan. That''s basically adopting her. What''s next? Teaching her how to hold a sword? Tucking her in at night?"

    "Enough," Stefan growled. "I just gave her a damn name, that''s all."

    "Sure, sure," Angeline hummed playfully. "Papa Stefan does have a nice ring to it, don''t you think, Vul?"

    Vul tilted her head, her red eyes flicking between them. She remained silent, simply watching. But it wasn''t the quiet of someone unsure how to respond¡ªshe was studying them, her gaze intense and unblinking. She tracked the way their lips moved, the way their shoulders shifted, the gestures they made with their hands. Every interaction, every subtle shift in tone, she absorbed like a machine gathering data.

    Then, suddenly, she flinched.

    A sharp, searing heat spread across her back. Her body stiffened, fingers gripping the cloak tighter. A strangled noise escaped her throat¡ªsoft, yet filled with distress.

    Angeline''s teasing stopped immediately. "Vul?" Her voice was laced with concern as she rushed to her side. "Hey, are you okay?"

    Vul nodded quickly, but there was a slight tremble in her frame.

    Angeline frowned but didn''t press her. Instead, she placed a gentle hand on Vul''s shoulder and lifted the dress. "Come on, I''ll take you to your room and help you get changed."

    She turned to Stefan and shot him a look. "And you, get some rest."

    Stefan grunted but didn''t argue. As he stood and walked past Vul, she instinctively reached out for him, her small fingers stretching toward him as if trying to hold onto something familiar.

    But Stefan didn''t stop. He didn''t even notice.

    Vul''s hand slowly lowered, her expression unreadable.

    Angeline sighed softly and patted Vul''s head. "Don''t mind him. He''s just an idiot." She flashed a small smile. "Come on, let''s get you settled."

    Vul hesitated, then nodded, allowing Angeline to guide her upstairs.

    -

    A new day. The first thing Vul heard was a sharp, piercing crow.

    Her red eyes fluttered open, the dim morning light seeping through the cracks of the wooden shutters. Another crow rang out, but this time, there was something... different about it. There was a distinct whoosh sound, followed by the brief flicker of orange light reflecting off the window.

    Curious, Vul sat up. She turned her head toward the sound, her movements slow, almost calculated. Stepping off the small bed, she quietly approached the window, peeking outside.

    There it was.

    A rooster, standing proudly on the rooftop across from her. Its feathers were a mix of dark red and gold, and each time it opened its beak to crow, a small puff of fire escaped its throat. The flames curled in the morning air before fading into nothing.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    Vul''s head tilted slightly.

    She pressed a hand against the window frame, watching intently. How?

    Her eyes studied the rooster''s throat as it crowed again. The fire came from inside. But where did it come from? Was it a separate organ? Did it mix something inside its body before expelling it as fire? She needed to see more.

    Without even realizing it, Vul climbed up onto the window sill. Her bare feet carefully pressed against the wooden edge, and with the same silent grace she had displayed the night before, she stepped out onto the roof.

    The shingles creaked softly beneath her weight, but she paid no mind. Her entire focus was on the rooster.

    She crouched down, watching every tiny movement it made. The way its chest puffed before each crow. The slight gurgling sound before the fire manifested. How the flames burned but didn''t consume its feathers.

    She inched closer.

    And closer.

    Suddenly, the door behind her flew open.

    "VUL¡ª!!!"

    Angeline''s panicked voice echoed through the room. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight before her.

    Vul.

    On the roof.

    Standing there like it was the most natural thing in the world.

    Angeline''s stomach twisted into knots. She took a sharp breath. "Vul! What the hell are you doing?! Get back inside this instant!"

    Vul didn''t even glance back. She was still watching the rooster, completely unfazed by Angeline''s frantic voice.

    Angeline gritted her teeth. "Vul, please! It''s dangerous! You could slip and fall! Do you even hear me?!"

    But Vul took another step forward, her red eyes locked onto the rooster, now only inches away.

    That was when it happened.

    The rooster''s body tensed. Its small, beady eyes flicked toward Vul as if only just now realizing she was there.

    Then¡ªPOOF!

    The rooster exploded into a burst of fiery ash.

    Vul blinked, confused.

    She stared at the scattered remains as the wind carried them away. Why did it do that? She had barely moved. She didn''t even touch it.

    Before she could dwell on it further, a hand grabbed her wrist.

    "Enough of this!" Angeline''s voice was shaking. "Get back inside!"

    Vul turned her head to see Angeline, her face filled with raw fear and frustration.

    She didn''t resist. She let Angeline drag her back inside.

    After a warm bath and a fresh change of clothes, Vul followed Angeline down the wooden steps of the Laughing Skull Tavern. Her long black hair was still damp, strands clinging to her pale skin as she stepped barefoot onto the tavern floor. The scent of sizzling meat and warm bread filled the air, mixing with the faint staleness of spilled ale.

    At one of the tables near the bar, Stefan was already halfway through his breakfast, lazily slicing into a thick cut of ham with a dull knife. He barely glanced up as Angeline and Vul entered.

    Behind the bar stood Isaac¡ªthe owner of the tavern and Angeline''s father. He was a towering man with dark, weathered skin and striking blue eyes.

    A thick beard peppered with gray covered his strong jaw, and despite his age, his muscular arms showed the strength of a man still very much in his prime. He wore a simple linen tunic with the sleeves rolled up, exposing forearms lined with old scars, likely from years of handling both kitchen knives and something far deadlier.

    As soon as he laid eyes on Vul, he arched a thick brow and leaned forward slightly, resting his broad hands on the wooden counter.

    "So, this is the girl you were talkin'' about, Angie?" His voice was deep, warm, and carried the weight of authority without needing to raise it. "The one Stefan dragged in last night?"

    Angeline nodded, gently guiding Vul toward the bar. "Yeah, that''s her." She turned to her father. "Can you keep an eye on her for a bit? I need to eat before I collapse."

    Isaac huffed a quiet chuckle and gave her a nod. "Go on, then. I''ll keep the little one entertained."

    Vul, without hesitation, climbed into one of the chairs by the bar, her crimson eyes peering curiously at the assortment of bottles and cooking utensils behind Isaac.

    Isaac studied her for a moment, his blue gaze flicking over her small frame. He clicked his tongue. "Hmph. You''re skinnier than a starved stray. No wonder you look half-dead." He reached under the counter and pulled out a book with a worn leather cover, placing it in front of her. "Here. Try readin'' this while I work. And don''t worry¡ªI''ll be sure to spoil you with some desserts later." He smirked. "Might fatten you up a little."

    Vul stared at the book, blinking once before slowly opening it.

    Meanwhile, Angeline settled into the seat across from Stefan, grabbing a spoon and bowl as she began eating.

    Or at least, she tried to.

    Her eyes kept drifting toward Vul, watching as she sat in quiet concentration, flipping through the pages of the book with her small, pale fingers. She looked so focused, yet oddly stiff¡ªlike she was still trying to figure out how to be in the world.

    Angeline frowned slightly, her concern pulling her deeper into thought.

    Then, without thinking, she picked up her spoon, dipped it into a bowl¡ª

    And took a big sip.

    Of water.

    Her entire body jerked in betrayal as the cold liquid splashed against her tongue instead of the warm, savory broth she expected.

    She nearly choked, coughing into her hand as her eyes went wide in horror.

    Stefan, who had been quietly observing this, let out a small chuckle. He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "You''re really that worried about her, huh?"

    Angeline slammed the spoon down, her face still twisted from the shock of her mistake. "OF COURSE, I AM!" She gestured wildly, nearly knocking over the bowl. "DID YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID THIS MORNING?!"

    Stefan raised a brow. "Do tell."

    "She climbed out of the window! The damn window!" Angeline threw up her hands. "And why?! BECAUSE OF A CHICKEN, STEFAN! A CHICKEN!"

    Stefan blinked. Then, he burst out laughing. "You''re joking."

    "DO I LOOK LIKE I''M JOKING?!" Angeline''s hands clenched into fists as she fumed. "She was on the damn roof! Watching some fire-breathing rooster like it was a science experiment!"

    Stefan tried to suppress his laughter, but the image was just too ridiculous. He snorted. "Well, she was born from an egg. Maybe she felt a connection."

    Angeline groaned, rubbing her temples. "You''re impossible."

    She sighed heavily, sneaking another glance at Vul, who was still buried in the book.

    Stefan let out a long, drawn-out sigh, leaning back in his chair. "Angeline, you need to let Vul be... Vul." His tone was calm, but firm, as if he had already accepted something she was still struggling with.

    Angeline scowled. "And what''s that supposed to mean?"

    Stefan set his knife down and crossed his arms. "We found her in a cave, surrounded by corpses¡ªones just like her." His voice was steady, matter-of-fact. "She wasn''t supposed to hatch and imprint. The rest of them were dead¡ªrotting inside their eggs. Yet, somehow, she''s here." He tapped a finger on the wooden table

    "You keep expecting her to act like us, but she''s not like us. Whatever she does¡ªclimbing roofs, staring at fire-breathing chickens¡ªit''s just her nature. It''s not weird to her. It''s just... what she is."

    Angeline''s shoulders slumped, exhaling in frustration. "I know she''s not normal, Stefan. But she''s more than some animal."

    Stefan chuckled, but there was something in his smile¡ªsomething that didn''t quite agree with her.

    Angeline narrowed her eyes. "Don''t you dare give me that look."

    Stefan just smirked and went back to his food.

    The conversation died down after that, and they ate in relative silence. The sounds of the tavern filled the space¡ªmuffled voices, the distant clatter of dishes, the occasional laugh from a drunken customer.

    Then¡ª

    Without warning, Vul was just... there.

    Neither of them had noticed her approach. One moment she was across the room, reading with Isaac. The next, she was standing at their table, holding two plates of cake¡ªone in each hand.

    Her crimson eyes stared at them, unblinking. Then, with perfect clarity, she spoke:

    "Here are your desserts. I hope you like it."

    Her voice was oddly clear¡ªtoo clear. Her words were precise, her pronunciation flawless. But there was something off¡ªher tone was flat, eerily controlled, like she wasn''t speaking so much as... repeating something she had heard before.

    Angeline, mid-bite, choked on her food. She coughed violently, slamming a fist against her chest as her eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

    Stefan, on the other hand, stiffened slightly, caught off guard¡ªbut not surprised. His brows furrowed as he studied her. "...Well, that was fast."

    Angeline, still recovering from her near-death experience, wheezed out, "What do you mean, ''that was fast''?! She was barely stringing words together yesterday! Now she''s serving cake like a damn tavern maid?!"

    Stefan didn''t answer immediately. His eyes lingered on Vul, watching the way she held the plates¡ªperfectly still, perfectly balanced. No hesitation, no unnecessary movement.

    Like she had practiced.

    Stefan stared at Vul, his expression unreadable.

    She learns too fast.

    The way she spoke, the way she moved¡ªevery action felt calculated, as if her body was adjusting to mimic those around her. He had seen quick learners before, but this? This wasn''t learning. This was copying.

    No hesitation. No mistakes. No wasted movement.

    It wasn''t human.

 Chapter 3

    His grip on his fork tightened for a moment, but he quickly loosened it. No point saying it out loud¡ªAngeline would just start her usual nagging. Besides, whether Vul was a monster or not, it didn''t change anything.

    "She''s amazing, isn''t she?" Angeline''s voice broke his thoughts. She beamed at Vul like a proud older sister. "You''re picking things up so quickly, Vul! Maybe we should teach you how to serve drinks next!"

    Vul''s red eyes flicked to Angeline, blinking once, twice¡ªsilent, but listening.

    Stefan exhaled through his nose and stood up, pushing his chair back.

    Angeline looked up, confused. "Hey¡ªwhere are you going? You''re not even gonna finish the cake my dad made for you?"

    Stefan glanced at the untouched slice on his plate. Then at Vul. "Give it to her." He turned toward the door. "I''ve got a quest to finish. I''ll be back late."

    As he reached for the handle, a gruff voice called out from the nearest table.

    "Hah! Leavin'' so early, Stefan?"

    A drunk man, heavyset with a thick beard and a face like a well-worn boot, swayed slightly in his seat. His clothes were stained with ale, and his nose was red from one too many drinks. He grinned lazily. "What is it? Headin'' to a brothel this early in the mornin''?"

    Angeline rolled her eyes. "By all means, let''s keep breakfast classy."

    Stefan smirked, glancing back. "What can I say? Some of us wake up ambitious."

    The drunk let out a hoarse laugh, slapping his knee. "Hah! That''s why I like you, Stefan!"

    Stefan gave a lazy two-finger salute and stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him.

    Vul, who had been completely still, suddenly moved.

    Without a word, she placed her plate down and dashed forward, trying to catch up. But just as she reached the exit¡ª

    Thud.

    The door shut in front of her.

    She stopped, staring at the wooden door in silence.

    The drunken man, watching the whole thing, let out a chuckle. "Hah! Is that Stefan''s kid?" He squinted at Vul. "They don''t look nothin'' alike."

    Angeline snickered, leaning back in her chair. "Of course not! She''s way too well-behaved."

    The man barked a laugh, shaking his head.

    Angeline patted the seat beside her. "C''mon, Vul. Let''s eat before my dad thinks we hate his cooking."

    Vul turned her head slightly, her crimson eyes lingering on the closed door for a few more seconds before silently making her way back to the table.

    The road was bumpy, and the scent of hay filled the small space inside the wagon. Hidden beneath a pile of trade goods and sacks of flour, Stefan remained still, listening to the steady rhythm of the horses'' hooves against the dirt path. His ride into the village was, as always, courtesy of Alex Truvor¡ªa traveling merchant from another kingdom.

    Alex owed him his life. Years ago, during one of his journeys, he had nearly been crushed under the massive club of a wandering Cyclops. Stefan had happened to be in the right place at the right time¡ªor the wrong place, depending on how one saw it¡ªand cut the creature down before Alex became a permanent stain on the road. Since then, Alex had helped Stefan slip past Adanile''s tight security, smuggling him into the village under the guise of simple cargo.

    The wagon rolled to a slow stop. Then¡ªstomp, stomp.

    That was the signal.

    Stefan pushed himself up, shifting aside some burlap sacks, and quietly hopped out of the wagon. He landed with ease, stretching his shoulders before taking a moment to fix his clothes.

    His outfit was simple but rugged¡ªa black, sleeveless tunic with a hood, worn over a long-sleeved gray shirt. A belt strapped diagonally across his chest held his daggers, and his dark trousers were tucked into knee-high leather boots, scuffed from travel. His coat, long and tattered at the edges, barely concealed the various knives and vials attached to his belt.

    As he adjusted his gloves, he glanced at Alex, giving him a simple nod before lightly tapping two fingers against his temple¡ªa silent gesture of gratitude.

    Alex smirked, tipping his hat. "Don''t go gettin'' yourself caught now."

    Stefan rolled his eyes and turned away, disappearing into the village crowd.

    The Adanile Kingdom''s village was unlike any other. It stretched far and wide, filled with towering structures carved from pristine white stone. Markets bustled with vendors selling fresh produce, exotic spices, and enchanted trinkets. Golden banners lined the streets, embroidered with the symbol of Queen Cole''Lai, whose statue loomed over the town square¡ªher expression was eerily serene, her hands raised as if bestowing a blessing upon her people. But beneath her watchful gaze, the symbols of the God of Calamity were ever-present¡ªetched onto every building, every streetlamp, even burned into the wooden doors of homes.

    For a moment, one could almost forget the horrors that lurked beneath the surface.

    Almost.

    At the heart of the village stood a display that snapped Stefan back to reality.

    A spear.

    And on top of it, a head.

    The man''s face was twisted in a grotesque grimace, his eyes bulging slightly, lips parted as if frozen mid-scream. His once-expensive purple garments were now soaked in blood, draped around the base of the spear like a macabre decoration. Flies buzzed around the lifeless flesh, the dried blood on his chin cracking under the morning sun.

    It was the nobleman from yesterday.

    Stefan exhaled sharply through his nose. They caught him fast.

    Villagers passed by without so much as a glance. A few slowed down, their gazes flicking up at the impaled head before continuing their day, neither horrified nor sorrowful. One elderly woman even muttered, "About time," before heading into a bakery.

    Stefan observed them carefully. No fear. No disgust. Just... acceptance.

    Is this normal to them?

    He rubbed his jaw, glancing once more at the lifeless nobleman.

    Well, there goes a potential client.

    After a while, with a satchel full of freshly bought potions, Stefan gave the village one last look.

    Despite its dark underbelly, the place was oddly... beautiful. Flowers decorated nearly every street, blooming in windowsills, hanging from balconies, and filling every garden in sight. The scent of petals mixed with the crisp morning air, creating a strange contrast to the severed head still displayed in the town square.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    He had heard whispers before¡ªQueen Cole''Lai was obsessed with flowers, particularly red ones. Her subjects honored her love for them by planting them in excess, turning the entire village into a living bouquet. It wasn''t just an act of devotion; it was an unspoken rule. To let a flower wilt or to refuse to plant them was almost seen as an insult to the queen herself.

    Stefan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. What a strange kingdom.

    With nothing else keeping him, he tightened the strap of his satchel and made his way toward the village gates.

    The moment he stepped past the towering white walls, the scenery changed.

    The path ahead led straight into a dense forest that stretched far beyond the outskirts of the kingdom. Unlike the bright, cultivated village, the woods were wild¡ªtrees twisted into unnatural shapes, their branches clawing toward the sky. The deeper the forest went, the darker it became, even in broad daylight.

    Monsters roamed here.

    Lots of them.

    Most creatures never dared to leave, bound by the sigils of the God of Calamity placed at the forest''s edge. Queen Cole''Lai had ensured that those markings acted as a barrier, keeping the beasts contained. Any who tried to cross would be punished¡ªtwisted into something worse or simply torn apart by unseen forces.

    But some monsters were strong.

    Too strong.

    And when those rare few managed to resist the sigil''s power... that''s where Stefan came in.

    Without hesitation, he stepped into the forest, disappearing into the shadows between the trees.

    The forest was alive.

    Towering trees twisted unnaturally, their bark cracked like open wounds, seeping with a thick, amber-like sap. Vines coiled around the trunks, some pulsing faintly, almost as if they were breathing. Strange blue mushrooms sprouted along the roots, glowing faintly in the dimness.

    Stefan moved with practiced ease, his boots crunching against fallen leaves and brittle twigs. He had been through these woods more times than he could count. He knew which paths to take, which trees to avoid, and which sounds meant trouble.

    Even the fairies recognized him.

    Tiny, glowing creatures flitted between the branches, their wings leaving behind trails of golden dust. A few of them giggled as he passed, whispering his name in their delicate, chiming voices. They had taken quite the liking to him over the years, much to his amusement.

    But there was no time for pleasantries.

    Stefan''s gaze sharpened the moment he spotted it.

    A hulking black wolf, its fur like ink, rippling as if it were made of living shadows. Licks of blue flames flickered across its body, dancing between its shoulders and curling around its legs like ghostly wisps. Its eyes, hollow and abyssal, gleamed with an unnatural hunger.

    And between its enormous, bloodstained fangs... was the limp, discolored corpse of a newborn.

    The sight would have turned the stomach of any other man.

    But Stefan had seen worse.

    The wolf¡ªthis blue devil¡ªhad been terrorizing nearby villages, leaving nothing but charred ruins and empty cradles in its wake. A monster like this couldn''t be reasoned with.

    As if sensing him, the beast froze mid-bite. Its blazing eyes locked onto Stefan, muscles coiling, prepared to strike.

    Stefan didn''t bother hiding. He stepped forward, shoulders relaxed, eyes sharp.

    "Well, you''ve certainly got an expensive appetite," he drawled, cracking his neck. "I don''t suppose you''d consider a change in diet?"

    The wolf responded with a guttural snarl, its flames burning hotter.

    Stefan exhaled, his hand moving to the hilt of his weapon. With a swift pull, he unsheathed his sword¡ªIgniter.

    The moment the blade was free, fire erupted along its edge, casting a furious orange glow against the darkened forest. The warmth licked at Stefan''s fingers, but he was used to it. He tightened his grip, eyes locked on the snarling beast before him.

    "Didn''t think so."

    The flames roared to life, and the fight began.

    The wolf vanished.

    One second, it was snarling before him, flames licking hungrily at the ground. The next, it burst into a swirling puff of black smoke, dispersing into the air like a dying breath.

    Stefan didn''t flinch.

    He had seen magic like this before¡ªtrickery designed to unnerve the weak. Instead of panicking, he closed his eyes for a brief second, listening. The forest around him creaked and whispered. The fairies had gone silent, sensing the predator lurking within the shadows.

    Then¡ª

    A flicker.

    Behind him.

    Stefan twisted just in time, raising Igniter to block a set of glistening fangs that snapped inches from his throat. Sparks flew as the beast''s burning claws scraped against the flaming blade. The impact sent Stefan skidding backward, boots digging into the damp soil.

    The wolf didn''t pursue.

    Instead, it disappeared again, vanishing into another puff of black smoke.

    Stefan exhaled through his nose. "Great."

    This wasn''t an ordinary monster. It wasn''t just attacking blindly. It was watching him. Calculating. Adapting.

    It tested his reactions, noted his speed, and adjusted accordingly.

    Stefan''s grip on Igniter tightened. He reached into his pouch, pulling out a small vial of blue liquid. With one swift motion, he uncorked it with his teeth and downed the potion. Immediately, a rush of energy surged through his body, sharpening his senses and quickening his reflexes.

    The wolf materialized again¡ªthis time from above.

    Stefan barely had time to move as it came crashing down from the trees, claws extended, its blue flames igniting the very air around it. He rolled to the side, avoiding the impact as the ground where he once stood erupted into a wave of fire.

    The heat licked at his skin, but Stefan didn''t waver.

    He was beginning to understand now.

    The way the wolf moved. The way it studied him before each strike. The way it learned.

    It reminded him of someone.

    Of her.

    For a split second, Vul''s face flickered in his mind¡ªher wide, curious eyes, the way she mimicked speech, the way she watched.

    Stefan clenched his jaw.

    "Tch... Figures."

    This fight wasn''t going to be easy.

    And he hated to admit it¡ª

    But this thing was smarter than he had anticipated.

    The wolf vanished again.

    Stefan narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on Igniter. The moment it disappeared, the world around him felt unnervingly quiet¡ªno wind, no rustling leaves, just the faint embers of dying blue flames flickering around the clearing.

    Then¡ª

    A shadow streaked toward him from the left.

    Stefan pivoted, swinging his sword, but the wolf was already gone, leaving only a swirl of black smoke. It was fast. Too fast.

    Another attack came from behind. He barely ducked in time as burning claws slashed through the air, singeing the tips of his hair. He countered with a quick upward swing, but once again, the wolf vanished before his blade could land.

    Stefan exhaled sharply. This bastard...

    It was toying with him.

    Another blur¡ªthis time from above.

    Stefan threw himself forward, rolling onto his feet just as the beast crashed down where he once stood, leaving deep scorch marks in the earth.

    As soon as he turned, it lunged again.

    This time, Stefan was ready.

    He didn''t dodge. Instead, he met the attack head-on, raising Igniter in a defensive stance. The moment the wolf''s flaming jaws clamped down, his sword burst into bright orange fire, burning into the creature''s mouth.

    The wolf howled in agony, its body twisting violently. But Stefan wasn''t done. He kicked the beast''s side with all his strength, sending it skidding across the clearing.

    The wolf snarled, shaking its head, black smoke curling from its burnt mouth. It glared at Stefan, no longer just testing him¡ªnow, it was angry.

    Good.

    Stefan wiped the sweat from his brow, smirking. "Not fun when you''re the one getting hurt, huh?"

    The wolf''s muscles tensed. Then¡ª

    It lunged again, faster than before.

    But Stefan had already seen through it.

    Instead of dodging, he sidestepped at the last second and brought Igniter down in a sweeping arc. The blade connected, slicing through flesh. Blood sprayed across the dirt as the wolf let out another pained howl, its shoulder now bearing a deep, searing wound.

    But it wasn''t done yet.

    The wolf disappeared into smoke again, reappearing at the edge of the clearing. This time, its blue flames roared brighter, spreading wildly across its body like an uncontrollable wildfire.

    Stefan''s smirk faded.

    Then, without warning, the wolf howled¡ª

    And the entire area erupted into blue flames.

    Fire consumed everything. Trees, grass, even the air itself seemed to burn with an eerie, unnatural glow. Stefan immediately jumped back, covering his mouth as thick smoke filled his lungs. The heat was unbearable, almost suffocating.

    The wolf had set the entire battlefield ablaze.

    Stefan cursed under his breath, quickly pulling out another potion¡ªa heat resistance elixir. He uncorked it and downed the liquid in one gulp. The burning sensation on his skin dulled, but the flames still roared around him, closing in.

    And in the middle of it all¡ª

    The wolf stood, its blue eyes locked onto him.

    It was panting, its body still bleeding from Stefan''s attack, but the fire surrounding it burned even stronger.

    This was its final stand.

    Stefan clicked his tongue. "You''re one stubborn bastard, I''ll give you that."

    The wolf snarled.

    Then, for the last time, it charged.

    But Stefan wasn''t planning on dragging this out any longer.

    He planted his foot firmly into the ground and raised Igniter high. The flames around his blade intensified, glowing even brighter than the wolf''s.

    As the beast lunged, jaws open wide, Stefan swung downward with all his strength.

    His flaming sword met the wolf''s burning body¡ª

    And sliced clean through.

    The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, extinguishing the flames in an instant. The wolf''s body split into two before it even had the chance to react. Its blue fire flickered one last time before vanishing completely.

    For a moment, everything was silent.

    Then¡ª

    With a dull thud, the severed remains of the wolf collapsed onto the ground.

    Stefan exhaled, lowering his sword. His body ached, his clothes were covered in soot, and sweat dripped down his face. But he was still standing.

    And the wolf wasn''t.

    He looked down at the corpse, watching as the blue flames slowly faded from its body.

    "Damn," he muttered. "What a pain in the ass."

    With a tired sigh, he sheathed Igniter and turned away. His job here was done.

    Now, it was time to head back.

 Chapter 4

    The tavern door creaked open, and a hooded figure stepped inside.

    Vul was busy wiping down a table while Angeline stacked empty mugs when the man approached. He moved with careful steps, his cloak heavy with dust from the road.

    "May I have a chat with you, Miss Angeline?"

    Angeline looked up at the unfamiliar voice. The stranger''s tone was polite yet firm. Then, without hesitation, he pulled back his hood.

    Her eyes widened in shock.

    "Elijah...?"

    Beneath the hood was a well-groomed man in his late forties, with neatly combed silver hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. Despite his calm expression, there was something weary about him, a tiredness hidden beneath his composed demeanor.

    She had never met him before, but she knew exactly who he was. Stefan had mentioned him in stories¡ªa butler, a mentor, and a loyal servant of the fallen House of Blanc.

    For a moment, she didn''t know what to say.

    "Vul," she finally spoke, snapping out of her daze. "Prepare a seat for our guest."

    Vul perked up and immediately went to work. She swiftly pulled out a chair, set it neatly in place, and then hurried off to fetch a drink.

    As Elijah and Angeline sat across from each other, Vul returned, carefully placing two cups on the table. She smiled brightly and gave a small curtsy.

    "Here is your drink. I hope you like it."

    Elijah nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, young lady."

    Vul giggled before skipping off toward the bar, where Isaac was already preparing orders.

    Angeline took a sip from her cup before finally addressing him. "So, Elijah... why are you here?"

    Elijah exhaled, his fingers tracing the rim of his cup before he took a sip of his tea. He then set it down and looked at her seriously.

    "I need your help," he said. "To convince Stefan to return to the mansion."

    Angeline frowned slightly. She had expected something serious, but not this.

    "Elijah..." she sighed, shaking her head. "I want to help you, I really do. But we both know Stefan won''t come back."

    Elijah didn''t seem discouraged. "I believe you are the only one who could convince him."

    Angeline hesitated.

    Every time she tried to ask Stefan about his past, he never took it lightly. It was the one thing he always avoided. She had no doubt that if she pressed him, he would simply push her away.

    Before she could reply, the ground suddenly trembled beneath them.

    The entire tavern shook violently.

    The mugs behind the counter rattled against the shelves, a few crashing onto the floor and shattering into pieces. The wooden beams groaned under the strain, dust falling from the ceiling. A loud creaking noise echoed as the chandelier swayed dangerously overhead.

    Vul immediately stopped what she was doing. A strange sensation washed over her, something deep and primal.

    Danger.

    Her body tensed. Whatever was coming¡ªthis was just a warning.

    Isaac grabbed onto the bar for balance, barking at his staff, "Hold onto something!"

    Some of the customers shouted in confusion while others scrambled to get outside, unsure if the building would hold.

    Angeline gripped the edge of the table, her heart pounding.

    "What the hell¡ª?!"

    Elijah remained eerily calm, setting his cup down carefully even as the liquid inside rippled from the tremors.

    Vul slowly turned toward the door, her eyes unblinking.

    She didn''t understand why...

    But something was out there.

    Something that wanted them to know it had arrived.

    The trembling stopped just as suddenly as it began. For a brief moment, silence settled over the tavern. People exchanged uneasy glances, gripping their drinks with tense hands. Then, out of nowhere¡ª

    A woman shot up from her seat, gasping violently.

    She clutched at her throat, her face twisting in agony as she staggered backward, knocking over her chair. Her breaths came in ragged, wheezing gulps as she tried to force something out of her mouth.

    Isaac was already moving.

    "Vul, stay put!" he ordered without looking back, already rushing toward the woman.

    Vul flinched, her body jerking slightly forward as if to follow him, but she obeyed, gripping the counter instead.

    Isaac knelt beside the woman as she collapsed onto her knees, her fingers clawing desperately at her throat. He placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, his voice firm yet soothing.

    "Breathe, lass. What''s happening? What''s in your throat?"

    The woman''s eyes, wide with terror, darted to his face. Her lips moved, struggling to form words between her choking fits.

    "S-Some...thing..." she rasped. "Inside... m-my... mouth¡ª!"

    Across the room, Elijah remained seated, his sharp gaze locked onto the woman. His fingers had already found the hilt of his sword, his movements slow and deliberate. Something was wrong. This wasn''t a normal choking incident.

    And then¡ª

    The woman wretched violently.

    A wet, squelching sound filled the air.

    Something fell from her mouth and landed on the wooden floor with a sickening plop.

    An eyeball.

    A human eyeball.

    The entire tavern froze.

    For a moment, there was nothing but the crackling of the fireplace and the distant sound of hooves clopping outside.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Then, she gagged again.

    Another eyeball tumbled past her lips, bouncing slightly before rolling to a stop.

    Then another.

    And another.

    A thick, wet splatter followed as more of them spilled from her mouth, like a grotesque waterfall of pupils and veins, slapping against the floor in a growing, glistening pile.

    A woman in the back shrieked.

    The tavern erupted into chaos.

    People scrambled away from the table, chairs scraping against the wooden floor as customers bolted for the door. A man tripped over himself in his haste, crashing into another patron. Someone knocked over a bottle of ale, the liquid mixing into the sickening puddle of eyeballs spreading across the floor.

    "Witchcraft," Isaac breathed, his mind racing to find an explanation.

    He quickly turned to the panicked crowd.

    "EVERYONE, CALM DOWN!" His voice was loud and commanding. "Does anyone here know a purification spell? We need to cleanse her¡ªNOW!"

    He turned back to the woman, placing a firm hand on her back, trying to keep her steady as she continued to vomit. "It''s alright, lass, just hold on¡ª"

    The woman suddenly went still.

    Isaac barely had a second to process it before her hand shot out and grabbed his chest.

    A violent, purple glow erupted from her palm.

    Isaac''s eyes widened as an invisible force struck him like a battering ram.

    His entire body lifted off the ground¡ª

    Then he was thrown backward.

    He crashed into the wall with bone-rattling force, the impact shaking the shelves behind him. Bottles shattered as he slumped onto the floor, gasping for breath, the wind completely knocked out of him.

    Angeline screamed.

    Vul''s eyes snapped toward the woman, her entire body tensing.

    Elijah had already drawn his sword.

    And the tavern was no longer just a place of food and drink.

    It had become something far worse.

    "EVERYONE, OUT! NOW!" Elijah''s commanding voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

    The moment he barked the order, the panic-stricken crowd shoved and stumbled over one another in a frantic dash toward the exit. Chairs toppled, glass shattered, and a few unlucky ones were nearly trampled as bodies surged toward the doors. The air filled with the thunderous sound of footsteps and terrified screams.

    Amidst the chaos, Angeline tried to break into a sprint toward her father¡ª

    Only for Elijah to seize her wrist, stopping her mid-step.

    "Let me go!" she yelled, struggling against his iron grip. "My father¡ª!"

    "You can''t," Elijah said sharply, his piercing gaze locked onto the scene before them. "She''s between you and him."

    Angeline froze, realization washing over her like ice water.

    The woman was right there, standing between them.

    Isaac was slumped on the floor on the other side, groaning, while Vul stood directly in front of the woman, still as a statue.

    The last of the fleeing customers had finally made it out, leaving only the four of them with whatever thing was happening to this woman.

    The tavern fell into eerie silence, save for the woman''s ragged breathing.

    Her trembling hands clawed at her own forehead, nails digging into the skin. Her lips moved rapidly, babbling a stream of incoherent words¡ª

    "It hurts... It hurts so much... So much... so much pain..."

    Her fingers ripped into her skin, peeling it apart.

    Then¡ª

    An eye.

    A deep, violet eye split open vertically in the center of her forehead, blinking grotesquely as if awakening from slumber.

    Angeline''s breath hitched in horror.

    Blood¡ªthick and dark¡ªspilled from the fresh wound, dripping down her face in slow, heavy streams. Her other two eyes dulled, the light within them flickering like a dying flame.

    She was still alive.

    But something else was, too.

    Then, she began to laugh.

    Not with her voice.

    It was the voice of another woman.

    It echoed unnaturally, layered, as if two beings spoke at once. The laughter started softly¡ªa chuckle, almost playful¡ªthen it swelled into a full-blown cackle, shaking her entire frame as she stood.

    Vul watched.

    Isaac groaned weakly.

    Angeline felt her stomach churn.

    And Elijah tightened his grip on his sword.

    Something unnatural had just taken over the woman''s body.

    And it was watching them now.

    The woman''s body jerked upright as though pulled by invisible strings. Her movements were stiff, unnatural¡ªlike a puppet being wound up after years of neglect.

    Then, her head snapped toward Elijah.

    Not turned. Snapped.

    The violet eye in her forehead pulsated with eerie light, the blood still dripping down her face unnoticed. Her lips curled into a smirk, and with that same layered, distorted voice, she spoke¡ª

    "A little birdie told us a Blanc resides here."

    Elijah''s expression darkened instantly. His grip on his sword hilt tightened until his knuckles turned white. His normally composed face twisted into something furious¡ªlips curling back, jaw tightening, nostrils flaring. His piercing blue eyes burned with an anger so raw, so personal, it was almost frightening.

    "Who told you?" His voice was low, controlled¡ªbut beneath it lay a dangerous edge.

    The woman chuckled¡ªa sickening, rasping sound. "Oh... does it matter?" she cooed mockingly. "What does matter... is that we are here to finish what we started."

    Elijah''s body tensed.

    Meanwhile, Angeline''s heart pounded, but not from fear¡ªher focus was entirely on Vul and her father.

    I need to get to them.

    Keeping her breathing steady, she slowly inched backward, moving as silently as possible. If she could just get Vul and Isaac out of harm''s way¡ª

    But the woman''s attention remained locked on Elijah.

    Elijah, who had just raised his sword¡ª

    "For as long as my master lives," he declared,  "the House of Blanc will rise again."

    A chilling hiss filled the air.

    His blade¡ªonce dull steel¡ªnow gleamed with an otherworldly glow. Mist seeped from its edge, curling around him like a living entity, tendrils of frost creeping along the wooden floor beneath his feet. The very air seemed to drop in temperature, a ghostly fog rolling out in waves, coating the room in a biting cold.

    The woman¡ªif she even was a woman anymore¡ªtilted her head.

    Then, without warning¡ª

    CRACK!

    Her body contorted.

    Bones twisted, popping and snapping into unnatural angles as she lowered herself into a stance. Her limbs twitched as if resisting the force controlling her, but she still moved, her spine arching grotesquely.

    Her fingers flexed, nails sharpening like claws.

    The violet eye on her forehead narrowed.

    And then¡ª

    She lunged.

    With a sharp exhale, he rushed forward, his ice-coated sword gleaming under the dim tavern lights. The woman didn''t flinch. Instead, she flicked her wrist¡ª

    And CRASH!

    Tables and chairs flew through the air, slamming toward Elijah like invisible fists. He twisted mid-sprint, dodging one, slicing through another with a clean stroke of his blade. Splinters rained down, but he didn''t stop.

    His boots slid against the wooden floor as he closed the distance. He swung¡ª

    CLANG!

    The woman raised her hand.

    Elijah''s sword stopped inches from her face, held in place by an unseen force. His muscles tensed as he pushed against it, his blade trembling, frost forming where the resistance met steel.

    She smiled.

    "Too slow."

    A sudden pulse of energy blasted outward.

    Elijah was thrown back, skidding across the floor, his grip tightening on his sword to keep it from flying from his grasp. He barely had a moment to recover before¡ª

    A blinding purple beam erupted from the eye on the woman''s forehead.

    Elijah rolled, narrowly avoiding the blast as it gouged a hole straight through the wall behind him. Light and dust spilled into the tavern, the air thick with burnt wood and the lingering hum of magic.

    He didn''t waste time.

    With a flick of his wrist, ice exploded from his sword, a jagged wall of frost surging forward to engulf the woman¡ª

    But she simply lifted her hand.

    The ice shattered into nothing.

    She laughed. "Oh, come now. Is this the might of a Blanc?"

    Elijah grit his teeth.

    Meanwhile, across the tavern, Angeline was on her knees beside her father.

    "Dad! Dad, wake up!"

    Isaac didn''t stir. His broad chest barely moved, his breaths shallow. Panic tightened in her throat. She was a mage, yes¡ªbut healing magic had never been her gift.

    She pressed her hands to his shoulders. "Please... you have to wake up, please!"

    Vul stood stiffly beside her.

    Her  eyes flickered between Angeline''s shaking form and Isaac''s unmoving body. Her fingers twitched, her expression unreadable¡ªlike a machine struggling to process an unfamiliar command.

    Angeline sobbed, gripping her father''s shirt.

    "Please, gods, don''t take him¡ª"

    CRACK!

    She flinched at the sharp sound, looking up just in time to see Elijah dangling midair.

    The woman had caught him.

    Her fingers curled into a loose fist¡ªand Elijah''s body jerked as if an invisible noose had wrapped around his throat.

    His feet no longer touched the ground.

    He struggled, his sword slipping from his grip, his hands clawing at nothing as he gasped for air.

    The woman grinned.

    "Pathetic," she purred, her voice layered with something not quite human. "Your ancestors would weep if they saw you now. Just a little pressure, and¡ª"

    Elijah choked. His vision darkened at the edges, his limbs growing numb. He tried to lift his hand, tried to summon a last-ditch spell¡ª

    The woman giggled. "Oh, don''t struggle. You''ll only make it worse."

    And then¡ª

    THWIP!

    An ice shard whistled through the air and struck the back of the woman''s skull with a sickening crunch.

    She didn''t scream.

    Didn''t even react.

    Instead, her head twisted unnaturally¡ªslowly turning without moving her neck until her glowing violet eye locked onto¡ª

    Angeline.

    The young mage stood tall, breathing heavily, her palm glowing with icy mist as she prepared to launch another attack. Her eyes were filled with fury, her lips curling into a snarl.

    She raised her hand, another ice crystal forming in her palm.

    With fire in her voice, she hissed¡ª

    "He''s not the only one who can fight, bitch."

 Chapter 5

    The woman''s middle eye snapped shut, the eerie glow vanishing in an instant¡ª

    And then¡ª

    She vanished.

    A sudden rush of cold air swept through the tavern as she reappeared directly in front of Angeline.

    Too fast.

    Too close.

    Angeline barely had time to react before the woman tilted her head, her neck bending in a disturbingly perfect 180-degree angle. It was unnatural, inhuman¡ªher long black hair spilling over her twisted shoulders like dead vines.

    "You foolish girl.... Angeline, was it?" the woman cooed, her voice thick with amusement, her lips pulling into a slow, cruel smile.

    "How did you know?" Angeline clenched her fists, but before she could move¡ª

    "I can see everything."

    That voice¡ªlow and knowing, layered with something more than just human speech¡ªsent a chill crawling down Angeline''s spine.

    "Then you should have seen this!"

    Realization flashed across the woman''s face.

    The Angeline standing before her¡ªwas an illusion.

    Too late.

    A fist engulfed in roaring flames came swinging from behind, slamming into the woman''s jaw with a satisfying CRACK!

    The woman staggered back, her head snapping to the side from the sheer force.

    She hadn''t expected that one.

    Angeline grinned, shaking her burning fist. "Not so all-seeing now, huh?"

    The woman lifted her gaze, an eerie smile curling her lips despite the damage.

    But Angeline wasn''t done.

    "I don''t know who or what the Blancs are..."

    Her eyes flared with anger, her other hand clenching into a tight fist¡ª

    "...but I live with one."

    Before the woman could react¡ª

    BAM!

    Angeline drove her fist deep into the woman''s stomach, flames erupting from her knuckles.

    "For my father!"

    The impact blasted the woman across the room like a broken doll, her body crashing through tables and chairs, sending debris flying everywhere.

    A thick cloud of dust and shattered wood filled the tavern.

    Angeline exhaled sharply, shaking the pain from her fist, feeling the warmth of her own fire flickering around her fingertips.

    She took a step forward¡ª

    And then¡ª

    Her body froze.

    A force wrapped around her like invisible hands, squeezing her limbs until she couldn''t move.

    Before she could even struggle, she was lifted¡ª

    Her feet left the ground.

    She was floating.

    Then¡ª

    She was thrown.

    Angeline''s body whipped through the air like a ragdoll before slamming into the bar stall, the wooden counter splintering on impact.

    The breath was knocked from her lungs.

    For a moment, everything blurred.

    Pain pulsed through her back, her head spinning from the sheer force of the throw.

    The woman''s eerie laughter echoed through the broken tavern.

    "Such a waste of power," she cooed.

    Angeline gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus through the pain.

    This wasn''t over.

    Not by a long shot.

    The debris burying the woman exploded outward, wooden splinters and broken furniture flying in all directions. The force of it sent a chair hurtling against the wall and a table flipping end over end before smashing into the floor.

    And yet¡ª

    She stood.

    Wounded. Broken. Burned.

    And yet¡ª

    Still standing.

    Her body was riddled with cuts, her dress torn and soaked in blood, but the look on her face was one of indifference. It was as if pain, agony, or even death itself meant nothing to her.

    As if she was merely an empty vessel.

    A ragged cough suddenly cut through the chaos.

    Isaac.

    Vul''s ears twitched at the sound, her head snapping to the side. She saw him¡ªher father¡ªslowly stirring, his body weak but alive.

    For some reason...

    She still didn''t understand.

    Didn''t process anything.

    But she moved anyway.

    She knelt beside him, her small hands hovering uncertainly, watching as Isaac''s eyes blinked open.

    The first thing he saw¡ª

    Was Angeline.

    His daughter.

    Collapsed across the bar stall, struggling to lift a shaking hand, trying to cast a spell at the floating woman.

    The woman hovered mid-air, like a puppet suspended by invisible strings, her middle eye flashing ominously.

    She drifted toward Angeline, fingers curling like claws.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Then¡ª

    A wall of ice erupted between them.

    Thick. Cold. Unyielding.

    The woman stopped abruptly, her head tilting in curiosity before turning her gaze toward the source¡ª

    Elijah.

    Breathing hard, exhausted beyond belief, but still gripping his sword¡ªits tip embedded in the floor. The chilly fog surrounding his blade thickened as frost crackled along the ground beneath his feet.

    The woman sighed.

    With an eerily calm motion, she reached up and ripped the ice shard from her skull, her flesh tearing with a sickening squelch. The middle eye on her forehead closed again.

    Then¡ª

    She disappeared.

    And reappeared directly in front of Elijah.

    Before he could react¡ª

    SHHK!

    The very same ice shard sank into his stomach.

    Elijah''s body went rigid, his breath caught in his throat, the cold sting of his own magic now impaling him.

    Isaac clenched his fists, his entire body shaking as he tried to stand. His vision blurred with rage and desperation.

    "You... monster!" he spat, barely able to push himself off the ground. "You''re evil! A soulless, heartless wretch!"

    The woman merely chuckled, twisting the shard inside Elijah''s gut just to hear him gasp.

    Isaac let out a furious roar, his voice filled with nothing but hatred.

    Then¡ª

    Vul felt it.

    Something inside her.

    Something calling to her.

    Her fingers twitched.

    An instinct. A pull.

    She didn''t understand.

    Didn''t think.

    She just¡ª

    Moved.

    Her hand gently pressed against Isaac''s back.

    A spark¡ª

    Then a fire.

    A sudden surge of power erupted inside of her¡ª

    And for the first time in her life, she felt.

    ANGER.

    A deep, raw, raging fury.

    The same feeling she had toward Angeline earlier.

    But now¡ª

    It was boiling.

    Then¡ª

    A glow.

    A bright, piercing glow.

    The dragon tattoo on Vul''s back ignited, its fiery outline searing through the fabric of her clothes, becoming visible to all.

    Then¡ª

    Something ripped free from her body.

    Tearing.

    Unfolding.

    Growing.

    The woman''s cold amusement shattered into a look of sheer horror.

    From Vul''s back, something began to emerge.

    The dragon¡ª

    Broke free.

    Its form peeled away from Vul''s flesh as if it had been merely sleeping beneath her skin. What was once an intricate marking now grew, expanded¡ªits body stretching higher, larger, monstrous.

    The tavern walls groaned under its sheer size, wooden beams splintering, glass shattering, the air itself shaking with its presence.

    A beast of darkness, of power, of something far beyond human comprehension.

    Its black scales gleamed with an unnatural sheen, each one sharp like obsidian. Its wings unfurled, large enough to nearly collapse the entire tavern.

    But its eyes¡ª

    Red.

    Piercing.

    The exact same as Vul''s.

    The woman staggered back.

    For the first time¡ª

    She feared.

    Then¡ª

    The dragon''s mouth opened.

    A deep rumble shook the ground as its throat glowed¡ª

    And then¡ª

    FIRE.

    A torrent of hellish red-and-black flames erupted from its maw, engulfing the woman in an unstoppable inferno.

    Her screams pierced the night, raw and inhuman, a cacophony of agony that rattled the very air.

    The fire consumed her.

    Her skin melted away.

    Her body¡ª

    Was reduced to bone.

    And still, the flames did not stop.

    The ground beneath her blackened and melted, a gaping hole forming where she once stood.

    Then¡ª

    Silence.

    Nothing remained but the scorched bones of the woman, smoldering in the middle of the molten crater.

    The dragon''s glowing red eyes narrowed¡ª

    Then it slowly turned its head.

    And looked directly at Vul.

    The dragon''s glowing red eyes locked onto Vul¡ªunmoving, unreadable.

    Then¡ª

    Its massive form shuddered.

    The black-scaled beast began to dissolve, its massive wings flickering into embers, its limbs unraveling into thread-like streams of fire. The flames spiraled inward, slithering through the air like living serpents, winding toward Vul''s back.

    She gasped.

    The heat licked at her skin, but it didn''t burn¡ªinstead, it felt familiar, like something returning home. The fiery tendrils coiled around her shoulders before sinking back into her flesh, the sensation tingling down her spine.

    Then¡ª

    It was gone.

    The blazing inferno, the towering beast, the overwhelming power.

    All that remained was the intricate black tattoo on her back, glowing faintly before dimming into stillness.

    The aftermath was eerily silent.

    The once-proud tavern was now ruined.

    The wooden beams had collapsed, sections of the walls reduced to cinders. Scorch marks blackened the floor, the furniture reduced to little more than ash and splinters. A gaping hole in the center of the room still smoldered¡ªall that was left of the woman. The once-warm and lively tavern was now a ghost of its former self, filled with nothing but the scent of burnt wood and blood.

    The thick wall of ice Elijah had created had melted in the heat, water pooling across the floor.

    Angeline wasted no time.

    She stumbled forward, ignoring the soreness in her body, and rushed to Isaac, who was now sitting upright, groaning but alive. Relief flooded her face.

    "Father!" she cried, dropping to her knees beside him.

    Isaac gave her a small, tired smile. "Still alive, lass... barely."

    Angeline let out a shaky breath before looking up¡ªher gaze landing on Vul.

    "You¡ª" she hesitated. "What was that?"

    Vul stood there, staring at her own hands, which were still trembling slightly. She opened her mouth¡ª

    And nothing came out.

    Because she didn''t know.

    "I... I don''t..." Vul murmured, her voice smaller than before.

    A ragged cough interrupted them.

    Elijah.

    Angeline''s head snapped toward him, and she scrambled to his side, carefully cradling his head. His breathing was shallow, his face pale.

    "You''re going to be okay," Angeline assured him, though her voice wavered.

    She quickly ripped a strip from her already torn skirt and pressed it against the wound in his stomach, trying to slow the bleeding.

    Isaac, now more steady, turned to Vul and ordered, "Help her."

    Vul nodded without hesitation and rushed to Angeline''s side, holding down the cloth to apply pressure as Angeline worked.

    Then¡ª

    The sound of hoofbeats.

    A wagon.

    And approaching voices.

    The moment Stefan saw the state of the tavern, his heart stopped.

    Where there was once a bustling, warm establishment¡ª

    Now stood a wreckage.

    The roof had partially collapsed, smoke and embers still clung to the air, and what remained of the structure looked like it could crumble at any second.

    Stefan sat stiffly in the driver''s seat of the wagon, beside Alex, who had been cheerfully chatting with him just moments ago.

    But now¡ª

    Both their smiles had disappeared.

    A cold pit settled in Stefan''s stomach.

    His first thought was Angeline.

    Then Isaac.

    His family.

    Without another second of hesitation, Stefan jumped off the wagon and ran.

    "ANGELINE!"

    His voice carried across the wreckage as he sprinted down the hill.

    "ISAAC!"

    He ran until his boots hit what was left of the tavern floor, breath sharp, heart hammering.

    The first thing he saw¡ª

    Was Vul.

    And her hands¡ª

    Covered in blood.

    His stomach dropped.

    "You¡ª" his voice was sharp, immediate. "What did you do?"

    Vul barely had time to blink before¡ª

    "Stefan, stop!"

    Angeline''s voice cut through the tension as she glared at him.

    She was still crouched over Elijah, her hands coated in blood as she carefully pulled out the ice shard from his wound.

    "She saved us," Angeline snapped. "Don''t¡ªdon''t you dare accuse her."

    Stefan''s chest rose and fell rapidly, his hand clenched into a fist¡ª

    But he didn''t argue.

    Because Angeline''s words were fierce.

    And Stefan knew better than anyone¡ªAngeline wouldn''t defend someone unless she meant it.

    "What happened here?"

    The voice came from behind.

    Alex had arrived, panting heavily, his usually neat coat disheveled from the run. His wide eyes scanned the scene¡ªthe destruction, the injuries, the exhausted faces.

    He stared at the burning wreckage of the tavern and paled.

    "Wha¡ªwhat in the name of the gods happened here?"

    Isaac, now standing fully, let out a slow, tired exhale.

    "It''s... going to be a long story," he muttered. "But first¡ª" his sharp gaze flickered to Alex. "We need a healing potion. Now."

    Stefan immediately turned to Alex. "I have plenty. Go get them from the wagon. Now."

    Alex nodded frantically and turned, running back up the hill.

    Stefan, meanwhile, slowly walked forward¡ªtoward Elijah.

    The man was barely conscious, his breaths weak, his body trembling from the blood loss.

    Stefan knelt down beside him.

    For a moment, Elijah didn''t move.

    Then¡ª

    His eyelids fluttered.

    And through hazy, pain-filled vision¡ªhe saw Stefan.

    A weak smile touched Elijah''s lips.

    His expression was one of pure, unfiltered joy.

    Like a man who had just seen an old friend after years apart.

    His lips barely moved, his voice a whisper.

    "Master..."

    Stefan''s breath hitched.

    "Save your energy," he said quickly, his usual commanding voice softer now.

    But Elijah''s trembling fingers clutched weakly at Stefan''s sleeve.

    His eyes darkened, the joy slipping into something grim.

    "But... I''m afraid that they found you..."

    His breathing was uneven.

    "The house... your house..."

    He swallowed, his fingers tightening ever so slightly.

    "They need you..."

    Then¡ª

    His final words.

    "Your destiny..."

    His eyes closed.

    Stefan''s entire body locked up.

    His mind blanked.

    The weight of those words crashed down on him, suffocating, unbearable.

    His house.

    His past.

    His destiny.

    He...

    He left all of that behind.

    Alex suddenly rushed back, hands full of glowing glass vials.

    Isaac immediately snatched one and uncorked it, pouring the golden liquid directly over Elijah''s wound.

    The magic hissed against his torn flesh, the healing process beginning immediately.

    "More," Isaac ordered, and Alex quickly handed him another.

    As Isaac, Alex, and Angeline worked frantically over Elijah¡ª

    Stefan slowly backed away.

    His breath was uneven.

    His thoughts clouded.

    Vul watched him from the corner of her eye.

    She wasn''t sure why.

    But she had a feeling¡ª

    Something inside him was breaking.

    And she didn''t know what it meant.

    Yet.

 Chapter 6

    The night had settled in, draping the world in a heavy cloak of darkness. The air was cool, carrying the crisp scent of damp earth and pine from the dense forest that stretched beyond the inn.

    Stefan stood outside, just beyond the wooden steps of the inn''s entrance. His posture was rigid, arms crossed, weight shifted slightly onto one leg. He stared out at the treetops, his fingers tapped absentmindedly against his arm

    He didn''t turn when the door creaked open behind him.

    He already knew who it was.

    Angeline stepped outside, letting the door softly close behind her. She had changed into a fresh outfit¡ªan old but comfortable cream-colored blouse, its sleeves rolled up just below her elbows, tucked into a brown corset belt that cinched at her waist. Loose black trousers replaced her ruined skirt, and she had thrown on a light cloak to shield herself from the evening chill.

    She wasn''t surprised to see Stefan out here.

    "Thought I''d find you brooding," she said casually, making her way toward him.

    Finally, Stefan turned his head, his blue eyes flicking toward her. He studied her for a moment before asking, "How is he?"

    Angeline exhaled through her nose, running a hand through her hair.

    "Healing potions aren''t miracle workers," she muttered. "But they let him survive his injury." She let out a slow breath before continuing, "He''s still unconscious, but his condition is stable. We just have to wait."

    At that, Stefan closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head up, gazing at the night sky. A relieved sigh escaped his lips.

    The stars shimmered above them, scattered like silver dust across the inky heavens. For a fleeting moment, Stefan allowed himself to breathe¡ªto feel the relief in knowing Elijah had made it through.

    But the moment didn''t last.

    "Stefan."

    Angeline''s voice was different this time¡ªsteady, but lacking her usual warmth.

    When he looked at her, she wasn''t wearing that soft, familiar smile.

    Instead¡ª

    Her face was serious.

    Not angry. Not upset.

    Just... determined.

    Stefan had seen that expression before.

    And he already knew where this was going.

    With a quiet sigh, he moved away from the entrance and sat down on a nearby log, resting his elbows on his knees. Angeline followed, settling beside him.

    There was a pause.

    Then¡ª

    "Tell me the truth," she said, "Please."

    Stefan didn''t respond right away.

    He simply stared ahead, eyes shadowed, his jaw tense.

    Inside the inn, the others slept¡ªVul included.

    Or at least, she tried.

    She lay on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her fingers gripping the fabric of the sheets. Her mind was restless, her thoughts tangled.

    The expressions she had seen earlier¡ª

    How did she apply them to herself?

    When would she ever use them?

    Why did people scream?

    Why did they writhe in pain?

    Why did those around her seem so broken?

    She didn''t understand.

    She wanted to understand.

    Then¡ª

    A voice.

    Angeline''s.

    It was muffled at first, just a sound in the background. Vul barely acknowledged it¡ªuntil¡ª

    Another voice joined hers.

    Stefan''s.

    Vul''s eyes widened.

    She sprang upright, her sheets falling from her lap. Without a second thought, she rushed to her window, unlatching it with quick fingers before pushing it open.

    The cool night air greeted her.

    Her room was on the second floor of the inn, but from here¡ª

    She could see them.

    And more importantly¡ª

    She could hear them.

    Angeline and Stefan, sitting on the log below, their backs turned to her.

    Vul leaned slightly forward, watching.

    Listening.

    Waiting.

    For something.

    For anything that would help her understand.

    Stefan exhaled through his nose, his hands clasped together, fingers digging into his own skin. His shoulders were stiff, as if he carried a weight too heavy for any one man to bear.

    Then, barely above a whisper¡ª

    "...I''m sorry."

    Angeline''s gaze softened.

    She didn''t say anything right away. Instead, she reached over, her hand finding his.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Her touch was warm. Grounding.

    "I don''t blame you for what happened," she said gently. "But you do owe me the truth."

    Stefan''s fingers twitched under hers.

    His jaw tightened, his lips parting slightly before closing again.

    He hesitated.

    The words sat on his tongue like a bitter poison, refusing to leave. His chest felt tight, as if something unseen was gripping his ribs, holding him hostage.

    Then¡ª

    A sudden warmth on his shoulder.

    Stefan flinched.

    His body tensed¡ªready to react, to push away¡ªuntil he realized¡ª

    It was just Angeline.

    She had leaned her head against him, her soft hair brushing against his jaw.

    His breath steadied.

    "You don''t have to suffer alone," she murmured. "Not when I''m here, older brother."

    Stefan let out a breath¡ªa slow, tired exhale.

    And then¡ªfinally¡ªhe spoke.

    "...Before Isaac took me in," his voice was quiet, his words careful, "I used to be a noble. Well... a bastard."

    Angeline stayed still, listening.

    "My family¡ªThe Blancs¡ªbelieved in purity. They kept their bloodline strong by... marrying within." His expression darkened, his voice taking on a bitter edge. "My father, Edmund, was supposed to marry his twin sister. That was tradition."

    Angeline furrowed her brows.

    Stefan let out a humorless chuckle.

    "Don''t misunderstand. It wasn''t that he found it disgusting. He simply didn''t care for it. He was already in love with someone else. Rosalind¡ªa gardener from our estate."

    Angeline listened intently, her fingers unconsciously tightening around his.

    "My father was the heir. His duty was to marry someone suitable, to continue the line. Instead... he ran away." Stefan swallowed. "With her."

    His voice softened.

    "They had a son..." He hesitated, his throat tightening. "Me."

    The wind howled through the trees.

    "But giving birth to me..." Stefan clenched his jaw. "...It took my mother''s life."

    A long silence stretched between them.

    Angeline''s fingers twitched.

    "My father loved her so much," Stefan continued, voice distant. "It killed him. And Elijah¡ªhe was her best friend. He''s the one who brought me back to the Blancs."

    Angeline''s lips parted slightly.

    "Unlike them, I didn''t belong," Stefan admitted. "The Blancs all had white hair. Silver eyes. And then there was me¡ªblonde hair, green eyes, sticking out like a weed in a bed of roses."

    He let out a small breath.

    "But I adored my family," he continued, his tone soft. "I looked up to them. They were the greatest monster slayers this world had ever seen. Every generation, they felled demons, creatures beyond comprehension¡ªeven beings on par with the Adaniles."

    He let the words sink in before adding, "I was the weakest Blanc."

    Angeline''s brows furrowed, but she remained quiet, letting him speak.

    "There was a prophecy," Stefan muttered. "It foretold that a Blanc would become the Harbinger of Peace and Purity." He scoffed. "The Order of Midnight didn''t like that."

    Angeline inhaled sharply.

    "They saw it as a threat. Their claim to the throne of Yro-Ei was at risk. So, they set a trap."

    His fingers curled into fists.

    "They invited us to a grand castle. A celebration in our honor." His voice dripped with venom. "We went, proud. We thought it was just another step toward our legacy."

    A bitter laugh.

    "And then the sky split open."

    Angeline''s stomach turned.

    "A meteor fell. Straight onto the castle."

    Stefan''s breathing became uneven.

    His hands trembled.

    "The Order didn''t just want us dead. They wanted us erased." His voice grew hoarse. "No one fought back. No one even realized what was happening."

    He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

    "It wasn''t just the meteor. The survivors¡ª" He gritted his teeth. "They sent monsters after us."

    He shut his eyes for a moment.

    "I saw it all."

    His voice wavered.

    "I watched them slaughter my family."

    Angeline''s grip on his hand tightened.

    "No one was safe," Stefan whispered. "Not even the babes."

    Angeline''s breath hitched.

    "It was a massacre."

    The words hung in the air like the stench of blood.

    Stefan swallowed.

    "I ran."

    Angeline''s chest ached.

    "I ran and ran," Stefan murmured. "The screams¡ªthey chased me." His green eyes darkened. "Sometimes, I still hear them."

    A deep breath.

    "...And then Isaac found me."

    Angeline felt like her body was made of stone.

    She couldn''t move.

    Couldn''t speak.

    Her hands trembled.

    She finally understood.

    Why Stefan never spoke about it.

    Why he buried himself in tavern work.

    Why he never let anyone in.

    Why he carried himself like a man with nothing left.

    Because he was a man with nothing left.

    Stefan let out a slow, bitter chuckle, his gaze locked on the ground.

    And then¡ª

    He smiled.

    But it was empty.

    Hollow.

    Like a man who had already drowned.

    And never quite resurfaced.

    Stefan let out a bitter chuckle, though it barely held any humor.

    His fingers rubbed against his temples before he ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaling sharply.

    "If I''m the only survivor," he muttered, "then that means I am the Blanc prophecy."

    His voice was laced with exhaustion, as if even saying the words drained something deep inside of him.

    A dry smirk tugged at his lips, but it never reached his eyes.

    "Which is probably why I survived the massacre in the first place."

    Then¡ªhe turned to Angeline.

    His green eyes, always so lively in the tavern''s warm glow, now carried nothing but pain.

    "Ironic, isn''t it?" he murmured.

    Angeline''s throat tightened.

    "I was saved by the very prophecy that killed my family."

    The silence that followed was unbearable.

    Angeline wanted to say something.

    Anything.

    But no words came.

    Because what could she say?

    Stefan tilted his head back, staring at the vast, starry sky above them.

    As if speaking to the very stars that had written his fate, he whispered¡ª

    "...How many lives does it take for me to have my own?"

    His voice cracked.

    For a moment, just a fleeting second¡ªhe let himself feel.

    And then¡ª

    Warmth.

    A tight embrace, firm and desperate.

    Angeline had wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as if trying to keep him from shattering entirely.

    Her voice was soft but unwavering.

    "You don''t need to force yourself into a destiny that tortures you."

    Stefan didn''t answer.

    He just closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as his arms found their way around her.

    Holding on.

    Holding back.

    How many lives would be taken, indeed?

    He didn''t know.

    But one thing was certain¡ª

    He couldn''t bear losing the last of his family.

    Not again.

    Meanwhile, Vul watched everything unfold from her window, her red eyes flickering with curiosity.

    Stefan and Angeline... they looked like they were in pain.

    But they weren''t hurt like Elijah.

    No blood. No wounds.

    Yet, their faces twisted in agony, their bodies trembled¡ªjust like the injured did.

    Why?

    Vul didn''t understand.

    She slowly closed the window and turned back to her bed, her movements unusually slow, almost hesitant.

    There was still so much she didn''t know¡ªso much to process with so little time.

    She lay down, staring at the ceiling, her mind filled with unanswered questions.

    Why do they hurt?

    The thought echoed within her, lingering like a riddle she couldn''t solve.

    And with that question still hanging in her mind¡ªVul slowly drifted into sleep.

    The night melted away into morning, the sky shifting from deep indigo to soft hues of orange and pink. The village slowly awakened with it¡ªbirds chirping, the distant chatter of merchants setting up their stalls, and the faint clatter of hooves against the dirt road.

    Then came the loud voice that shattered the morning''s peace.

    "What you''re doing is suicide, Stefan!"

    Vul stirred, her red eyes fluttering open as she was pulled from sleep by Angeline''s sharp tone. It wasn''t the kind of shout that signaled an emergency, so Vul didn''t hurry. Instead, she groggily pushed herself up, her long black hair a tangled mess as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

    As she descended the stairs, still scratching her head, she saw them¡ªAngeline and Stefan, standing in the middle of the small inn''s main room, locked in a heated argument.

    "I don''t care," Stefan shot back, his voice firm, his green eyes blazing with determination. "I need to go back to my mansion."

    "And what?" Angeline scoffed, crossing her arms. "Get yourself killed? Because that''s exactly what''s going to happen!"

    Vul blinked, confused.

    Last night, they were being sweet to each other, talking quietly under the stars. Now, they were arguing?

    Strange.

    As she stood there, trying to piece it all together, a yawn escaped her lips¡ªloud enough to draw attention.

    Angeline''s expression softened as she turned to Vul with a smile. "Oh, good morning, Vul."

    Vul blinked again, still too drowsy to respond.

    Then Angeline''s smile twisted into something more mischievous. She turned back to Stefan with a devilish glint in her eye.

    "I''ll let you go on one condition¡ª" she said slowly, savoring the moment.

    Stefan narrowed his eyes. "What condition?"

    Angeline''s grin widened as she pointed straight at Vul.

    "Vul comes with you."

    At that, Vul was suddenly very awake.

    Stefan looked offended. "What?!"

    Before he could object, Angeline held up a hand. "I saw what Vul can do, Stefan," she said, her voice calmer but no less firm. "If you don''t trust her, then at least trust me."

    Stefan''s jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists.

    Vul, meanwhile, stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs, fully awake now and staring at them both.

    What... exactly did she just wake up to?

 Chapter 7

    Outside the inn, Stefan stood by the wagon, his muscles tensed as he lifted another heavy wooden box onto the cart. His jaw was set, his expression sour, and an annoyed furrow creased his brow.

    Across from him, leaning casually with her arms crossed, Angeline wore a smug, victorious smile, basking in her undeniable triumph.

    Stefan hated that smile.

    The boxes weren¡¯t even for his journey¡ªthey were for Alex¡¯s merchant supplies¡ªbut he had no choice but to help load them. He already knew that, for his own trip, he¡¯d need to pack only the essentials. No distractions. No unnecessary burdens... maybe Vul.

    And yet, as he shoved the last box into place, Angeline¡¯s teasing voice cut through the air like a dagger to his pride.

    ¡°This will be such a fun father and daughter bonding trip,¡± she mused playfully.

    Stefan shot her a sharp glare, his annoyance deepening. ¡°I will never have a monster for a daughter. Not even for a million gold.¡±

    Angeline just rolled her eyes, grinning. ¡°Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.¡±

    At the same time, the inn¡¯s door creaked open, and Vul stepped out.

    Her long black hair, now freshly washed. A simple but elegant dark dress draped over her figure, and she looked¡­well, presentable. More so than the disheveled, half-asleep mess from earlier.

    As Vul approached the wagon, ready to climb aboard, Angeline suddenly stepped in front of her, stopping her with a playful grin.

    ¡°Here,¡± she said, dramatically pulling out a small stack of books and handing them to Vul. Then, lowering her voice just enough to be considered a whisper¡ªwhile still ensuring Stefan could hear every word¡ªshe leaned in and said,

    ¡°Stefan can be so boring, so you¡¯ll need these. Trust me, these books are way more entertaining than him.¡±

    Vul blinked, staring down at the books in her hands, her red eyes scanning the covers with silent curiosity.

    Stefan, unimpressed, scoffed. ¡°Funny. The women I¡¯ve slept with said the exact opposite.¡±

    Angeline¡¯s smug expression immediately twisted into disgust. ¡°UGH, Stefan!¡± she gagged, taking a step away from him like he was contaminated.

    Meanwhile, Vul¡­simply stood there. Quiet. Observing.

    Casually flipping open one of the books, she tilted her head and mumbled, ¡°...What is entertaining about this?¡±

    Stefan smirked. Angeline groaned.

    Just then, Alex strolled toward them, flipping open his pocket watch and eyeing the time before snapping it shut.

    ¡°We¡¯re all set,¡± he announced casually.

    Stefan gave a small nod, then turned to Angeline and gestured for her to come closer. As she stepped up, he lowered his voice just slightly.

    ¡°I left the gold from my quests with you,¡± he told her. ¡°Use it however you need.¡±

    Angeline blinked at him. ¡°And what about you and Vul?¡±

    ¡°I took a quest on the way out,¡± Stefan said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ll earn more.¡±

    Angeline let out a slow breath, her expression unreadable for a moment before she nodded. She wasn¡¯t going to argue¡ªnot now, at least.

    With that, Stefan turned on his heel and climbed into the wagon, moving with effortless ease as he settled in next to Alex.

    Vul, watching him, followed suit¡­ or, at least, she tried to.

    The wagon was higher than she expected, and as she placed her foot on the edge, attempting to pull herself up, she found herself struggling. She tried again, gripping the wooden frame tightly, but the motion felt awkward, unbalanced.

    Stefan, already seated, let out a sharp sigh through his nose. Clearly irritated. Without a word, he stood back up, reached over, and¡ªrather unceremoniously¡ªgrabbed Vul by the arm and pulled her up into the wagon.

    Vul barely reacted, only adjusting herself once she was in place. Stefan, on the other hand, muttered something under his breath before sitting back down, arms crossed.

    As Stefan settled into his seat, he gave Alex a firm nod.

    "Just drop us off at the forest," he instructed.

    Alex, already adjusting the reins, hummed in acknowledgment. With a flick of his wrist, the wagon jolted forward, the wheels creaking slightly against the dirt road.

    Angeline, still standing outside the inn, cupped her hands around her mouth and called out, "Goodbye, Vul! Stay safe!" She waved enthusiastically, her smile bright despite the bittersweet farewell.

    Vul, sitting stiffly in the wagon, turned her gaze toward Angeline. For a moment, she simply observed. Then, as if processing what was expected of her, she lifted her own hand and began to mimic the motion¡ªraising and lowering it in a near-identical wave.

    "Goodbye, Angie! Stay safe!" she echoed, her voice matching Angeline¡¯s tone almost perfectly.

    Angeline let out a small laugh, shaking her head fondly. Stefan just sighed and looked away.

    The wagon continued onward, and soon, the village faded behind them.

    Time passed swiftly, and by the time the wagon came to a stop, they had arrived at the forest''s entrance. Towering trees loomed ahead, their thick canopies casting a cool shade over the path leading inside.

    Stefan, without hesitation, hopped off the wagon in one smooth, effortless motion. Vul, watching him closely, attempted to do the same. However, her landing wasn¡¯t quite as flawless¡ªher foot caught slightly, and she nearly stumbled forward. She quickly straightened, acting as if nothing had happened.

    Alex, still holding the reins, gave them both an assessing look. ¡°So, this is where we part ways.¡±

    Stefan gave a short nod, then glanced up at him. ¡°Take care of Angeline and Isaac for me.¡±

    Alex smirked, rolling his eyes. ¡°What, you think I wouldn¡¯t?¡±

    ¡°Just making sure,¡± Stefan muttered.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    Alex let out a light chuckle before tipping his hat. ¡°Yeah, yeah. You two try not to die, alright?¡±

    ¡°No promises,¡± Stefan replied dryly.

    With that, Alex snapped the reins, and the horse neighed, pulling the wagon forward once more. Vul and Stefan stood in silence as they watched Alex disappear down the road, leaving them alone at the forest''s edge.

    As they stood at the edge of the forest, silence stretched between them. Awkward. Lingering. ALMOST.

    A soft hum broke through¡ªfaint but deliberate.

    Vul, arms swinging slightly, mimicked the sound Alex had made earlier in the wagon. It was an odd, absentminded noise he had repeated under his breath, and for some reason, it tickled Vul¡¯s ears in a way she found pleasant. Naturally, she wanted to repeat it.

    Stefan gave her a strange look but decided to ignore it. Instead, he cleared his throat and got to the point.

    "Angeline told me you can summon a dragon," he said, watching her closely.

    Vul stopped humming and met his gaze. ¡°Yes.¡±

    Stefan crossed his arms. "Can you do it again?"

    ¡°Yes.¡± The same flat, monotone response¡ªexcept for a slight, almost imperceptible gleam of excitement in her eyes.

    This was her moment. The moment to impress Stefan.

    The problem was... she had no idea how she did it before.

    Vul closed her eyes, focusing. She had to think. How did it happen? What triggered it? The image of flames, the feeling of heat on her back¡ªshe grasped at those pieces, trying to piece together the answer.

    Nothing.

    She tried again. And again. And again.

    Still nothing.

    Frustration flickered through her usually unreadable face, and she stomped the ground in growing irritation. Her fists clenched, brows furrowing in concentration¡ªthen suddenly, it happened.

    A ripple of warmth spread from her back, and from that very spot, a streak of black fire spiraled outward. It twisted and turned, taking form in the air. The dragon had emerged once again, wings unfurling as it let out a small, airy growl.

    But something was wrong.

    It was tiny.

    The creature hovered around her, its body no larger than a baby dragon¡¯s. Vul stared at it, tilting her head. She was almost certain it had been bigger before. Wasn¡¯t it?

    Meanwhile, Stefan was dumbfounded.

    This... couldn''t be the dragon that had saved the tavern. Right?

    He narrowed his eyes at the tiny, floating creature, his lips parting slightly in disbelief. For a moment, disappointment almost crept in. He had expected something monstrous. Something terrifying.

    Instead... he got this.

    The small dragon flapped its wings once before settling on Vul¡¯s left shoulder, curling its tail around the back of her neck like a warm scarf. Vul blinked, her lips parting as if she were about to say something¡ªexplain, perhaps¡ªbut nothing came out. She struggled, fumbling for words that refused to come.

    Stefan, however, had seen enough.

    He dragged a hand down his face with an exasperated sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. This was a waste of time.

    Without another word, he stepped past her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder¡ªnot unkindly, but with enough force to make it clear¡ªbefore gently pushing her aside.

    "Stay here," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don''t follow me."

    And with that, he disappeared into the forest.

    As he walked, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the slightly crumpled quest paper. Unfolding it, he scanned the details once more.

    Target: A nymph.

    Description: Lures men with an enchanting flute, then eats their hearts.

    Stefan rolled his eyes. Seriously? People were still falling for this old trick?

    Humans never learn, do they?

    He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head as he pressed onward. According to the information, the nymph lived near the entrance of the forest, where fresh prey was easiest to come by. That made things simple¡ªhe wouldn¡¯t have to go too far to find her.

    Then, just as expected, he heard it.

    A faint melody, soft and sweet, weaved through the trees like a whispered lullaby.

    The hunt had begun.

    Meanwhile, as Stefan vanished into the dense forest, Vul remained standing at the edge, her gaze lingering on the spot where he disappeared.

    A soft rustling sound made her glance to her shoulder¡ªher tiny dragon still perched there.

    Curious, Vul absentmindedly lifted her free arm.

    The dragon moved.

    It didn¡¯t just shift or adjust itself¡ªit actually followed the direction of her arm, tilting its head as if mimicking her motion.

    Vul¡¯s eyes narrowed. Strange.

    She tested it again, making a subtle flick of her wrist.

    The dragon instantly darted to that direction, wings flaring before it quickly returned to her side.

    A silent stare-down began.

    Vul¡¯s ruby eyes locked onto the dragon¡¯s glowing red ones. The creature blinked, its tiny claws gripping her shoulder slightly tighter.

    Was it¡­ connected to her?

    Psychically?

    There was only one way to find out.

    And with that thought, her gaze slowly drifted toward the forest.

    Stefan could now hear the flute clearly, the melody weaving through the trees like a silver thread. She was close. He had to admit, the creature had a skillful hand¡ªeach note was played with such precision and allure that any ordinary man would be stumbling toward her without a second thought. But Stefan was no ordinary man. He had hunted sirens before, and tricks like these didn¡¯t work on him.

    He moved forward with silent steps, eyes scanning through the thick foliage until he finally saw her.

    The nymph stood in a small clearing, her long, flowing white dress draping over. The fabric was thin, almost translucent, clinging to her form in all the right places. Golden hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes locked onto Stefan¡¯s the moment he laid eyes on her.

    So much for a sneak attack.

    She slowly lowered her flute, a coy smile gracing her lips. "Come now," she purred, "no need to hide in the shadows. Why don¡¯t you step into the light?"

    Stefan exhaled through his nose, stepping into the clearing with an irritated roll of his shoulders. "How considerate," he muttered, his tone flat with sarcasm. "Most monsters like you don¡¯t offer such a warm welcome."

    The nymph chuckled.

    She began to circle him, her bare feet barely making a sound against the grass, her eyes running over him like a predator sizing up her next meal. "Monster? That¡¯s a bit cruel, isn¡¯t it? You wound me, handsome."

    Stefan gave her a slow, unimpressed look. "If you¡¯re looking for sympathy, I suggest you try your usual victims."

    She hummed in amusement, taking another step closer. "Oh, but you¡¯re different. Strong. Capable. Dangerous." Her fingers trailed lightly across his arm, moving up to his shoulder before resting on his chest. "Wouldn''t it be such a waste to spill blood when we could... share something else?"

    She leaned into him, pressing herself against him just enough to feel the warmth of his body. "I could make it worth your while."

    Stefan¡¯s jaw ticked, eyes narrowing as he resisted the urge to groan in annoyance. He had no patience for this.

    With a flicker of motion, his igniter was out, the blade gliding up to press against her throat before she could utter another word. Just a few centimeters more, and he¡¯d slice right through. The nymph went still, golden lashes fluttering as she stared at him with wide, startled eyes.

    Stefan smirked darkly. "Not interested."

    The nymph chuckled softly, but Stefan didn''t miss the flicker of shock in her golden eyes. He could see it¡ªthe brief widening of her pupils, the subtle stiffening of her fingers. She wasn¡¯t used to men resisting her charm, yet she still held her composure, masking her unease with a practiced, alluring smile.

    Slowly, she took a step back, pressing a delicate hand to her chest as if wounded. "W-why¡­?" Her voice trembled, her lower lip quivering. "Why do you look at me with such hatred? I have done nothing to you..." A single tear glided down her porcelain cheek, "Are men truly so cruel? Do you all see a lonely woman and assume she''s a monster?"

    Stefan, unimpressed, remained silent. His grip on his igniter didn¡¯t waver.

    The nymph stole a glance at him, searching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. Her delicate sobs grew louder, her shoulders trembling as she buried her face into her hands, her whole body shaking with sorrow. But then¡ª

    A giggle.

    It started soft. A stifled sound, almost playful. Then it grew. The weeping turned into breathless giggles, bubbling out of her throat. The sound twisted into something unsettling, her laughter stretching unnaturally, echoing through the trees.

    Then she stopped.

    Her golden eyes snapped open, and all traces of sadness and seduction had vanished, replaced by something cold. Emotionless.

    She tilted her head.

    "Fine. If you refuse to be charmed, we¡¯ll just do this the hard way."

    The moment the words left her lips, her body convulsed. A sickening crack filled the air as her spine twisted unnaturally. Her limbs contorted, elongating grotesquely as her pale skin darkened to a deep, sickly green. Her delicate fingers stretched into jagged claws, nails blackened like sharpened obsidian. Her flowing white dress melted into her flesh, fusing with her new form, revealing a ribcage that protruded unnaturally, stretching against her grotesque, hollowed-out torso.

    Where her heart should have been¡ªthere was nothing.

    A gaping, pulsing hole lay in the center of her chest, black veins webbing outward like cracks in shattered porcelain. Her mouth split unnaturally wide, her lips peeling back to reveal rows of jagged, needle-like teeth. Her once beautiful hair slithered and coiled like living tendrils, writhing in anticipation. Her golden eyes had dulled to hollow, black pits, oozing a thick, inky substance that dripped onto the forest floor.

    A long, forked tongue slithered past her lips as she let out a guttural, inhuman growl, her voice now layered with unnatural distortions.

    "Now then," she rasped, her voice scraping against the night air like rusted metal. "Shall we dance?"

 Chapter 8

    Stefan barely had time to react as the monstrous creature lunged at him with terrifying speed. He ducked just in time to avoid the jagged claws that slashed through the air where his head had been a second ago. The nymph¡ªno, the abomination¡ªmoved with an unnatural, almost glitching fluidity, her twisted form a grotesque mockery of beauty. Her elongated limbs twitched, and the gaping hole in her chest seemed to pulse as if it had a mind of its own.

    Stefan rolled to the side, igniter in hand, and slashed at her leg, but the blade barely cut into her dense, sinewy flesh. The monster shrieked, an ear-splitting sound that sent a shiver down his spine. She retaliated, swinging one of her clawed arms toward him, forcing him to block. The impact sent a sharp vibration through his sword, nearly knocking it out of his grasp.

    "Tch¡ª" Stefan gritted his teeth. "Great, another one of those freaks with no weak spots."

    As he struggled to find an opening, a high-pitched yet unmistakably fierce roar rang through the forest. It was tiny. Comically tiny.

    Stefan instinctively turned his head toward the sound, his eyes widening as he saw Vul running toward him, her small black dragon leading the charge.

    "Oh, you have got to be kidding me¡ª" Stefan cursed under his breath.

    Vul''s expression was the exact opposite of Stefan¡¯s¡ªshe was positively beaming, seemingly delighted to have found him. However, her enthusiasm quickly met a humiliating fate as she tripped over a stray rock, landing face-first into the dirt with a loud thud. To Stefan¡¯s utter bewilderment, the dragon also faceplanted beside her despite having no reason to trip in the first place.

    Even the monstrous nymph paused, blinking at the bizarre scene. Stefan could swear he saw something like confusion in those ghastly hollow eyes.

    Unfortunately, the moment of distraction didn¡¯t last long. The creature turned back to him, swinging her elongated claws toward his torso. Stefan barely managed to raise his sword in time, the sheer force of the impact making his arms tremble.

    Then, just as the monster attempted to press down harder, a blur of black suddenly darted in front of her. The tiny dragon let out another determined roar¡ªstill absurdly small¡ªand slashed its claws across the monster¡¯s grotesque face, leaving behind deep, smoking gashes.

    Stefan took the chance to glance at Vul. She had already pushed herself up from the ground, blood trickling from her nose, but she seemed completely unfazed. Her red eyes gleamed with eerie focus as she pointed her index finger at the monster, as if silently commanding her dragon to attack again.

    Stefan didn¡¯t know whether to be annoyed, impressed, or deeply concerned.

    Vul attempted to move her hands again, determined to command the dragon to breathe fire upon the monstrous creature before them. However, instead of releasing a devastating blaze, the dragon veered off in another direction and promptly crashed into a nearby tree with an undignified thud. Frustration boiled within her as she struggled to control it, her small fists clenching at her sides.

    Meanwhile, Stefan and the creature remained locked in a vicious struggle, their weapons and claws clashing with brutal force. The air was thick with tension, the sound of steel scraping against the monster¡¯s grotesque, sinewy limbs echoing through the forest. Stefan gritted his teeth, dodging a swipe that would have torn through his side. He retaliated with a precise slash, his igniter carving through the air and striking the creature¡¯s shoulder. It barely flinched, instead lunging at him with a feral snarl, its hollow chest gaping like a black abyss.

    As the fight raged on, Vul¡¯s frustration reached its peak. She stomped her foot, her crimson eyes burning with impatience. The dragon, as if responding to her emotions, twitched and grew¡ªif only by an inch. But that wasn''t enough. With a shrill, exasperated scream, she yelled,

    "Burn her! Burn her already! Burn her into nothing!"

    As if awakened by the sheer force of her demand, the dragon let out a screech and took flight, darting around the monster with renewed ferocity. It opened its tiny maw, unleashing a torrent of flames upon the nymph-turned-monstrosity. The woman shrieked as the fire licked at her grotesque flesh, her clawed hands flailing as she tried to swat the dragon out of the air.

    Furious, she turned her full attention toward the winged menace, her grotesque features twisting with rage. But this was her fatal mistake. Seizing the opportunity, Stefan lunged forward with swift precision, his igniter aimed directly at the gaping void in her chest.

    As he thrust the blade into the hollow cavity, he whispered coldly, "Detonate."

    The moment the word left his lips, the sword erupted into searing flames. The fire consumed the monster from within, her body trembling violently as the inferno devoured her from the inside out. Her agonized screams filled the forest, a terrible wail of death and despair, until her form crumbled, turning to ash that scattered into the wind.

    Silence fell upon the clearing. The battle was over.

    Stefan stood amidst the scorched remains, his sword still hot from the ignition, embers flickering in the air. For a brief moment, he allowed himself a breath of satisfaction¡ªuntil realization struck him like a hammer to the skull.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "Are you KIDDING me?!" he barked, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Where''s the proof?! What the hell am I supposed to show for this?! A jar of ashes?! Like that''s gonna convince anyone!" His voice was sharp with exasperation, his frustration mounting. "Damn it! Got so caught up in burning that thing, I completely forgot about the damn reward!"

    As Stefan fumed, Vul slowly approached him.

    She hesitated for a second before reaching out, intending to grab his hand¡ªjust like in the storybook Isaac had given her. But before she could, the dragon suddenly sniffed the air, its small body stiffening before it flapped its wings and flew toward a large rock.

    Stefan immediately followed, leaving Vul standing there with her hand still slightly raised. As he stepped around the rock, his gaze landed on an old wooden chest, partially hidden beneath vines and leaves. Suspicion flared in his mind. Could be a trap. He readjusted his grip on his igniter and flicked it open with practiced ease, jamming the blade into the chest¡¯s latch. With a forceful push, he pried it open.

    The stench hit him first. The thick, metallic tang of dried blood mixed with something far worse¡ªrotting flesh. Inside the chest, neatly stacked in grotesque fashion, were human hearts. Some had been gnawed on, their edges frayed and chewed. Others were shriveled and blackened, long since devoid of life. A few, however, were still fresh, the crimson flesh glistening wetly.

    A small, sickening squelch echoed as one of them shifted slightly in the pile.

    Stefan¡¯s face twisted into a disgusted sneer. "Monsters," he spat, his voice laced with pure venom.

    Behind him, Vul flinched. The word rang in her ears, heavy and sharp. But Stefan didn¡¯t notice. His attention was already shifting, his gloved hand reaching down to snatch the nymph¡¯s flute from the dirt. He twirled it between his fingers, then glanced back at the chest before shutting it with the tip of his sword.

    "This''ll do," he muttered. "At least they can''t deny proof now."

    Above the land of Yro-Ei, a castle loomed in the sky, suspended by an unseen force.

    The structure was built from towering black stone, jagged and sharp like the fangs of a beast, its spires stretching toward the heavens as if clawing at the sky.

    Shadows wreathed its edges, an unnatural mist curling around its foundation, defying the very laws of nature. The castle pulsed with a strange energy with its gothic arches and stained-glasses.

    Within the throne room, massive black pillars lined the chamber, carved with depictions of ancient conquests and the fall of countless houses. Blood-red chandeliers hung from the ceiling upon the obsidian floors. The walls, adorned with tattered banners of vanquished enemies, told tales of an empire forged through war and darkness.

    At the very heart of the room, seated on a throne of blackened iron and onyx, was the Lord of Midnight¡ªKing Val Umbra. His long black hair cascading over his broad shoulders. His silver eyes gleamed with an otherworldly glow. Pale skin, almost luminescent.

    His fingers, adorned with rings of dark gemstones, lazily traced the rim of a goblet filled with rich, crimson wine.

    Three women surrounded him.

    The brunette draped herself across the arm of his throne as she ran delicate fingers along his chest.

    The red-haired one knelt beside him, her fiery curls cascading down her back as she leaned against his thigh

    The blonde stood behind him, her hands massaging his shoulders, a smirk on her lips as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

    They were his wives, his queens.

    The heavy doors of the throne room creaked open, and the sound of delicate footsteps echoed against the dark stone. A woman entered, moving with a grace.

    Her long blonde hair cascading down her back. She wore a white dress. It hugged her body, showing off her curves. The neckline was low, and the material flowed around her, hinting at what was underneath.

    A blindfold covered her eyes.

    She kneeled before the Midnight King, ¡°My king, the letters are true. A Blanc has survived the massacre. He is heading to Yro-Ei¡­ with a dragon witch.¡±

    The brunette clutched Val¡¯s arm tighter, her brows furrowing with worry. ¡°My love, should we not act now? The Blancs are¡ªwere¡ªa formidable house. This survivor could be dangerous.¡±

    The redhead nodded, her fingers tracing idle patterns on Val¡¯s leg, her gaze flickering between him and the blindfolded informant. ¡°If they reach Yro-Ei, they could cause trouble for us.¡±

    The blonde behind him simply continued to smile, though there was a sharp glint in her eyes. ¡°We will not let anyone come between us, my king.¡±

    Val remained unmoved, taking a slow, deliberate sip of his wine. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he silenced them all.

    Leaning forward, he spoke.

    ¡°Tell me,¡± he murmured, ¡°What is the strongest house in the Promised Lands?¡±

    The blonde wife immediately perked up.

    ¡°Adaniles!¡± she answered eagerly.

    Val gave a slow, approving nod before continuing. ¡°And what is the strongest house in Yro-Ei?¡±

    The blonde was about to speak again, but before she could, the redhead swiftly covered her mouth.

    ¡°Midnight,¡± she answered, ¡°And Blancs¡­ once.¡±

    A slow smile curled across Val¡¯s lips.

    ¡°And tell me,¡± he continued, "who ended the House of Blanc?¡±

    The room fell into silence, but before his wives could answer, Val leaned back into his throne, a smirk playing on his lips as he murmured the answer himself.

    ¡°I did.¡±

    Val Umbra exhaled softly as he placed his goblet aside, the red wine inside barely disturbed. Slowly, he rose from his throne. The moment he did, the entire castle seemed to respond to his movement. The dark stone walls groaned, the high arching ceiling trembled, and the grand chandelier overhead rattled with each step he took.

    ¡°History is written by victors, by those with the will to seize what is theirs. The strong carve their names into eternity, while the weak fade into forgotten whispers. The Blancs¡­ they were strong once. They stood tall, proud, untouchable¡ªuntil they weren¡¯t.¡±

    His boots struck the obsidian floor with a steady, unhurried rhythm, yet every footfall sent deep reverberations through the castle¡¯s very foundation. The blackened spires outside quivered, the stained-glass windows flickered, the chandelier swayed.

    He stepped forward, the very castle shuddering beneath his weight, cracks forming along the cold stone floor.

    ¡°The past is nothing but a graveyard of names that no longer matter. And now¡­ one dares to rise from his tomb.¡±

    The air itself grew heavier.

    Suffocating.

    The blindfolded woman remained perfectly still, her body rigid in her kneeling position. Even without sight, she could feel him descending upon her. Then, silence¡ªuntil she felt his cold fingers under her chin. With effortless command, he lifted her face to him.

    "Midnight will lull them to an eternal slumber," he murmured.