170

170
The moment we crossed the borders of Crimsonville, news of the first attacks reached us. The northern part of town was already under siege. Gareth was stationed there with two battalions, holding the degenerates at bay. So far, they had managed to keep the enemy just outside the borders, but the hybrids’ numbers were multiplying by the minute.
Hadrian refused to let me stray far from him, his vigilance unwavering. I had to reassure him—multiple times—that I had no intention of acting recklessly. I valued my life too much to make rash decisions.
The only exception to his watchful guard came when Icarus arrived, saying he had something for me.
“Your King must really trust you,” I remarked as he led me toward the car.
He glanced at me. “Why do you say that?”
I let out a dry laugh. “He wouldn’t even let me pee alone, but the second you showed up, he didn’t hesitate to let me go off with you. Seems a little suspicious, don’t you think?”
Icarus threw his head back in laughter before responding, “Yes, I suppose you could say that. Hadrian doesn’t allow just anyone near you. Only General Larkspur and me.”
“Because you and Gareth are his best warriors?” I teased, flashing him a grin.
Icarus smirked, but his smile carried something deeper, something unreadable. “That, too…”
I stopped walking, suddenly intrigued. “Is there another reason?”
His sigh was deep and reluctant, a clear sign that he had no desire to continue this conversation. But my sharp gaze pinned him in place—I wasn’t letting this go.
He relented. “General Larkspur is gay… and I’m married.” He tossed the words at me quickly, as if trying to outrun my curiosity, then hurried to open the car door.
I blinked, my mind momentarily blank. I hadn’t given a second thought to Gareth’s personal life, but I had certainly never noticed a wedding ring on Icarus’s hand.
“How long have you been married?” I asked, sliding into the car without taking my eyes off him.
“Ten years,” he said with a dreamy smile.
I studied him skeptically. He had the kind of face that, with the right outfit, could still pass for a high schooler. That only made it harder to believe him.
“How old are you, exactly?” I questioned, shameless in my curiosity.
His smirk widened as he met my gaze. “Twenty-nine. Emily and I met in school. We got married right after graduation.”
The way his whole face lit up at the mere mention of her name made me smile. His love for her was written all over him.
I knew I was prying, but I couldn’t help myself. “Does she work for the Palace? How do you even manage to see each other?”
Icarus chuckled, clearly amused by my enthusiasm. “No, she works at her family’s law firm in Monteforte City. She’s a half-breed like me, but she leans more human than vampire. When we met, I was already training under Master Larkspur and working for the Kesslers. Her family comes from old money, and let’s just say they weren’t exactly thrilled about their daughter marrying a military man. We eloped and built a life together. It took them five years to finally accept Emily back and invite her to work at the firm. As for me… I’m still proving my worth.” He ended with a small, wry smile.
My stomach twisted with a mix of frustration and sympathy. He had spent years fighting for a place in her family, despite already being one of the King’s most trusted men. If loyalty, skill, and valor weren’t enough to win their approval, what would be?
“I don’t get it,” I said, frowning. “You’re a Commander in the Royal Army. The King favors you. You’re a great guy, and—” I faltered as his grin widened mischievously. Clearing my throat, I muttered, “And you’re… handsome.” I made sure to stop before I embarrassed myself further.
“Thank you, Thalassa,” he said smoothly, throwing me a wink before sighing. “Unfortunately, Emily’s family has never been fond of the Kesslers. They still struggle to accept Hadrian as their King. But maybe that will change once we destroy the degenerates’ army—and whoever EH really is.”
I gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “It will change.”
I didn’t ask where he was taking me, but as the car continued down the familiar streets, realization dawned on me. We were heading straight for Cassius Marwood’s mansion.
A strange feeling settled over me as we arrived. The last time I had been here, the air had been thick with something dark and oppressive. Now, it was unsettlingly quiet. The bodies had been cleared, but faint stains of blood remained, a ghostly reminder of the battle that had taken place.
“What are we doing here?” I asked warily.
Icarus chuckled as he stepped out of the car. “You wanted a weapon, didn’t you?”
I narrowed my eyes, watching him with suspicion as I followed him through the entrance. “You could at least tell me where we’re going.”
“You’ll see soon enough.” His grin turned wicked as he led me upstairs.
We moved through a part of the mansion I had never explored before, down a long corridor that opened into what looked like a training hall. As we got closer, I noticed the tatami mats covering the floor.
“This was your father’s private training room,” Icarus explained, stepping onto the mats.
I swallowed hard, taking in the space. It was the perfect setup for Taekwondo, a stark contrast to the image I had of my father. I had never imagined him engaging in a discipline that required focus, respect, and mental control. He had always shown the world his brutal, merciless side. Yet here was proof that there had been more to him—something he had kept hidden.
And now, his secret passion for Japanese sword arts would serve a new purpose.
A better one.
As I approached the wall, my gaze swept over the collection of swords resting on wooden supports. One in particular caught my attention—a blade housed in a scabbard adorned with the image of a striking white dragon with green eyes. Something about it reminded me of my mother, and I silently hoped it would grant me even a fraction of her strength.
Drawing the sword from its sheath, I found myself staring at the most exquisite blade I had ever seen. The steel was impossibly smooth, its edge honed to perfection—sharp enough to cleave through bone with barely any effort. It was exactly what I needed.
"Thank you, Icarus," I murmured, sliding the sword back into its scabbard.
His grin was as boyish as ever. "You're welcome. I'm just glad I could help."
"You helped more than you know," I admitted, pressing the weapon against my chest. Holding it, I felt more prepared for what lay ahead, as though the fight had already become just a little easier.
By the time Icarus and I returned to the command center in the heart of the district, the reality of war had already caught up to us. There was no time to revel in the weapon I’d just received—I would have to put it to use far sooner than I expected. Every available fighter had already been deployed to defend Crimsonville’s borders. Hadrian and his battalions were locked in battle, fending off the largest wave of hybrids attempting to breach the western front.
For the first two hours, the Royal Army, bolstered by the Blue Moon wolves, held their ground. Silver-aconite bullets rained down from hastily built fortifications, explosives sending shockwaves through enemy ranks. But there was only so much ammunition we had managed to produce in such a short time, and the hybrids were relentless, their numbers seeming endless.
We remained in constant communication with the other units stationed across the borders. Initially, every side had been under siege. Then, the enemy’s approach shifted. The attacks on the other fronts suddenly lessened, their forces dwindling—except for the western border. Their intent became clear: they were drawing us into a concentrated battle. Yet, we couldn’t afford to pull troops from the other positions, not with the risk of another ambush catching us off guard. It was a clever maneuver. They had the numbers to strike us with full force, but we couldn’t commit all our forces without leaving ourselves vulnerable elsewhere.
Then came the chilling words that sent dread through every soldier at the west gate.
"We're out of bullets."
Everyone knew what would follow.
Hadrian stepped to the front, facing the warriors preparing for the inevitable.
"Over ten thousand Royal Army soldiers are on their way," he declared. "They’ll strike the enemy from behind and crush them completely. We need to hold the line for just one more hour. If we can do that, victory will be ours!"
A fierce roar of battle cries erupted in response, the warriors fueled by his words.
Hadrian reached for my hand, squeezing it tightly, as if willing his strength into me. I met his gaze, offered him a reassuring smile, and drew my sword. The gates groaned as they swung open.
A heartbeat later, we were swallowed by the chaos of battle.
Hybrids surged forward in a frenzied assault, clashing against us with monstrous force. Blood spattered across the ground almost instantly. My blade became an extension of myself, cutting through their twisted forms with deadly precision. The katana allowed me to keep a safe distance, its longer reach preventing their claws and fangs from finding me. But wielding it was no easy feat—it demanded strength, each strike chipping away at my stamina.
“There’s too many of them!” The desperate cry rang out among the soldiers, their boots slipping on blood-soaked earth, bodies piling beneath their feet as more hybrids charged.
Forty minutes passed, and I watched comrades fall before my eyes. It was horrifying. But that horror only ignited something deeper within me—a fury that burned through every muscle, every fiber of my being. I wanted these monsters gone. I wanted to tear through every last one of them.
Hadrian never strayed far, his sharp gaze flicking toward me every so often to ensure I was still standing. Each time our eyes met, I forced a smile, urging him to focus on the battle rather than me.
Then, finally, the sound we had been waiting for rang through the air.
A signal blast.
Reinforcements had arrived.
Our warriors erupted into renewed roars, the exhaustion in our limbs forgotten as fresh determination surged through us. We pushed forward, harder, faster, cutting through the enemy with newfound ferocity.
"The other borders have been secured! The troops are heading here to reinforce us!" someone shouted.
We were winning.
I spotted Kenzo and the others charging in to join the fight, and relief flooded me. It was only a matter of time before we wiped out the remaining hybrids and claimed our victory. Ten minutes later, their numbers had dwindled to less than a hundred. We were cutting them down one by one, driving ourselves beyond our limits, beyond the pain.
Somewhere along the way, I had drifted from Hadrian’s side. But it no longer mattered—the battle was nearly over. My hands trembled, blisters burning my palms, yet I refused to loosen my grip on my sword. I pushed forward, searching for another enemy to cut down.
Then I saw it.
Icarus.
A massive hybrid loomed behind him, its claws raised, prepared to strike while he was occupied with another opponent.
"No!" I screamed, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Without thinking, I lunged, my sword cutting through the air in a deadly arc. The creature’s head severed from its body before it could land the blow. Blood sprayed across the ground as Icarus whirled around. Relief should have been in his eyes.
But instead, there was horror.
A heartbeat later, pain exploded through me.
I gasped, choking on something warm and coppery. Looking down, I saw the grotesque spikes of claws piercing through my chest.
The pain was unbearable.
I heard my name. A roar—Hadrian’s voice, filled with anguish.
Icarus was running toward me, his face twisted in panic.
I swayed. The claws retracted, ripping free from my body, and an agonized scream tore from my lips.
Then I was falling.
Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground. Hadrian. He was shouting something, but the words blurred together, distant.
I reached out weakly, my fingertips brushing against his face.
I was so tired.
So tired.
I let my eyes close.