Chapter 128 0128

Chapter 128 0128
Inside the old woman’s hut. At the far corner of the hut, an old, dirty mat was spread on the floor, and lying on it was Mila’s body.

Her body still looked horrifying.

Parts of her skin were badly rotted, and dark veins spread across her pale flesh like poison crawling beneath her skin. Her empty eye sockets looked terrifying, and her lips were cracked and dark. Even though she had been brought back to life, her body still carried the smell of death around it. She remained completely motionless on the mat, looking more like a corpse than a living human.

Xavira knelt beside her while carefully using herbs soaked in green liquid to clean Mila’s rotten skin. Her movements were slow and careful as she rubbed the strange mixture across Mila’s arms, neck, and face. Every few seconds, the herbs made a soft burning sound whenever they touched the dead flesh, and dark smoke rose slightly from Mila’s skin. The strange liquid was stopping the rotten flesh from decaying further.

For a long while, Xavira continued cleaning every part of Mila’s body carefully in silence. Her expression remained calm, though deep inside, she still found the entire thing disturbing. Raising the dead was forbidden even among witches, yet her mother had done it without hesitation. That alone showed how important Mila was to whatever plan the old woman had in mind.

After finishing, Xavira slowly stood up while carrying the wooden bowl filled with the remaining green liquid. She walked across the hut and placed the bowl carefully on a small wooden table filled with dried herbs and strange animal parts. Then she turned around slowly and looked toward her mother.

The old woman sat quietly on her usual wooden stool near the fire. Her eyes were closed while her lips moved nonstop, whispering strange words under her breath. Dark energy moved faintly around her body as though the magic itself was alive. Her fingers twitched occasionally while she continued chanting quietly.

Xavira stood there watching her mother silently for several moments before finally walking closer and sitting down on another stool facing her.

“Mother,” Xavira called.

The old woman did not answer immediately.

Instead, she continued murmuring under her breath for what felt like forever. The fire inside the hut suddenly grew stronger as her whispers became deeper. Finally, after several long moments, she slowly opened her eyes.

Her eyes immediately landed on Xavira.

Then slowly, she turned her head toward Mila’s body lying motionless on the mat.

Xavira watched her before finally asking the question that had been bothering her since the resurrection.

“Why are we helping her?” Xavira asked.

Her voice carried both confusion and curiosity. Knowing how evil and selfish her mother could be, Xavira knew the old woman never helped anyone without gaining something in return. Her mother manipulated people, used them, and discarded them whenever she was done with them. Yet this time was different. She had broken one of the greatest forbidden laws of witchcraft just to bring Mila back from death.

That alone terrified Xavira.

The old woman slowly turned her gaze back toward her daughter, staring silently at her for a while before finally speaking.

“Mira and her son must die,” she said coldly.

Xavira frowned deeply at those words.

“Why?” she asked in confusion. “They have done nothing to us.”

The old woman suddenly let out a small chuckle that echoed across the hut.

“Oh… but they have,” she whispered mysteriously.

She paused for a moment as if carefully choosing her next words before speaking again.

“Mira carries powers that can destroy us.”

Xavira’s eyes widened immediately in shock.

“What?” she asked in disbelief. “How is that possible? No one can destroy you. You are the strongest witch alive. Everyone fears you.”

The old woman chuckled again at her daughter’s words.

“Do you remember when I told you Mira was a witch?” she asked.

Xavira nodded immediately, though confusion was still written all over her face.

“Yes,” she answered.

The old woman leaned back slightly on her stool before speaking again in a deep voice.

“She is not an ordinary witch,” the old woman revealed. “I recently discovered that she carries the blood of the Great Witch.”

The moment those words left her mouth, silence filled the hut.

Xavira stared at her mother in complete shock.

“The Great Witch?” she repeated slowly, hardly believing what she was hearing.

The old woman nodded calmly.

“She carries ancient power,” she continued. “Power strong enough to destroy every dark witch alive… including us.”

Xavira immediately stood up from her stool in disbelief.

“You mean she is powerful enough to destroy both of us?” she asked while pointing first at her mother and then at herself.

The old woman slowly nodded again.

“That power was never supposed to belong to her,” the old woman said darkly as anger flashed across her face. “I was the one destined to possess such power. Not her.”

Hatred slowly filled her eyes as she spoke.

“That alone is enough reason for her to die.”

Xavira slowly turned her head toward Mila’s motionless body lying on the mat.

“And you think she can help us kill Mira?” she asked.

The old woman slowly stood up from her stool and walked toward Mila’s body. Her long robe dragged across the floor as she moved. She stopped beside the mat and looked down at Mila with a wicked smile spreading across her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Xavira also walked closer and stood beside her mother. Both of them stared silently down at Mila’s body for a few moments while the fire inside the hut crackled loudly behind them.

“And when are we going to attack?” Xavira finally asked.

The old woman’s smile widened dangerously.

“As soon as Mila fully recovers,” she answered coldly.



Shadowfang Pack

Darius stood quietly beside the large window inside the pack house, his eyes fixed on the training ground outside. The entire pack was filled with movement and noise as warriors prepared themselves for war. Some warriors trained fiercely with swords and spears, while others carried heavy weapons toward the carriages lined outside the gate. The sound of metal clashing against metal echoed through the air nonstop, mixed with loud orders from commanders preparing the men for battle. Everywhere Darius looked, he saw warriors getting ready to shed blood.

And somehow, it terrified him.

As he continued staring outside, tears slowly gathered in his eyes without him realizing it. His chest felt painfully heavy. Just the previous night, Calista had woken up trembling from a terrible dream. She had seen blood covering the battlefield like a river. She had seen countless dead warriors lying lifeless on the ground. But the image that frightened her the most was Drevan’s body lying among the dead, covered in blood with lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.

That dream had refused to leave Darius’ mind ever since morning came.

Despite everything Drevan had done to him, the insults, the humiliation, removing him as Beta, replacing him with Griffin, Darius still cared deeply about him. Drevan had once been his closest friend, almost like a brother to him. Watching him slowly lose himself to hatred and revenge had been painful enough already. But now, seeing him preparing for war against Silver Pack made Darius feel certain that something terrible was about to happen.

Early that morning, Darius had gone to Drevan’s chamber, hoping to speak some sense into him again, even though deep inside he already knew Drevan would never listen. But before entering, he had overheard Drevan speaking with Griffin about their plans to attack Silver Pack that very night. Drevan had spoken coldly about killing Asher, Mira, and anyone who stood in his way before taking over the entire pack.

The moment Darius heard those words, fear filled his heart.

He could not stop thinking about Mira and little Zane. He did not want anything to happen to them.

“Darius.”

A familiar soft voice suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts.

Darius quickly wiped the tears from his eyes before turning around. His eyes immediately fell on Calista, who stood a few steps away from him while carrying little Lulu in her arms. Tears rolled freely down Calista’s cheeks, and fear was clearly written all over her face.

“Calista,” Darius called worriedly as he rushed toward her immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Calista shook her head slowly while tightening her hold on Lulu.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

Fresh tears escaped her eyes as she looked up at him helplessly.

“You have to stop him,” she sobbed softly. “Please speak to Drevan again. Tell him not to go to war. I feel like he’s going to die.”

Hearing the fear in her voice broke Darius’ heart even more.

He gently placed his hands on her face and pulled her closer to him.

“Hey… baby, don’t cry,” he whispered while kissing her cheek gently. He used his thumb to wipe away her tears carefully, causing Calista to smile weakly through her sadness.

Darius hated seeing her cry.

“I’ll go talk to him again,” Darius said. “Maybe this time he’ll listen.”

Though deep inside, he knew Drevan probably would not.

Still, he had to try.

Calista nodded slowly while staring at him. Darius leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips before pulling away. Then, without wasting another second, he hurried out of the room.

Darius rushed through the hallway quickly before reaching Drevan’s chamber. Without bothering to knock, he pushed the door open and entered immediately.

But the room was empty.

Darius looked around anxiously, his breathing becoming heavier.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.

He quickly turned around and rushed back outside again. His boots echoed loudly against the hallway floor as he ran out of the pack house and toward the front gate.

The moment he stepped outside, his heart sank.

Drevan was already there.

The Alpha stood proudly beside a large black carriage while Griffin stood beside him dressed in black warrior armor. Several warriors moved around them while loading weapons into the carriages. Everyone was already prepared to leave.

Drevan himself wore black battle clothing, with two swords hanging at his waist. His cold eyes stared ahead without emotion, making him look more dangerous than ever.

“Drevan, please!” Darius shouted as he hurried toward him and stopped directly in front of him.

Drevan did not even look at him immediately. Instead, he continued watching the warriors preparing the weapons.

“You can’t go to Silver Pack,” Darius pleaded desperately.

Still, Drevan remained silent.

“Please listen to me,” Darius continued, panic filling his voice. “You could die.”

At those words, Drevan finally turned his cold eyes toward him.

For a moment, silence passed between them.

Then Drevan let out a scoff. 

“No, I won’t,” he said coldly. “Stop worrying about me like a fool.”

Darius stepped closer desperately.

“Please… for once just listen.. ”

But before he could finish speaking, Drevan suddenly shoved him violently to the ground.

Darius fell hard onto the dirt with a painful groan.

Without hesitation, Drevan stepped over him coldly and continued walking toward the carriage.

Darius looked up at him helplessly from the ground.

“Drevan…” called.

Drevan stopped beside the open carriage door and slowly turned around. 

“I will return with Asher’s head,” Drevan declared.

A cruel smile slowly spread across his lips.

“And Mira’s too.”

Without saying anything else, Drevan climbed into the carriage. Griffin entered after him, and moments later, the carriage doors closed.

Soon, the carriages began moving.

Hundreds of warriors followed after them while carrying weapons.

Darius remained sitting on the ground helplessly, watching them disappear into the distance.