🜏 Chapter 113:
The ground trembled.Not from the fury of the enemy…but from the heartbeat of those who still refused to fall.
Sanathiel dug his claws into the scorched earth as the roar of beasts merged with the crackle of flames.His breath was thick.Laced with blood.Exhaustion.Resolve.
And the medallion burned—As if it already knew…that no dawn would come tonight.
Aisha stood beside him.Her hands steady on the bow.Her body trembling.But her gaze—unmoving—was that of a crownless queen who still refused to die.
"They outnumber us," Salomon murmured from the rear, drenched in blood not his own."But if we're going to fall... then let them scream our names in their dreams."
A monstrous roar shattered the moment:A horde of deformed hybrids breached the defensive line.
"The sky felt closer to collapse… than to protection."
Sanathiel stepped forward, eyes ablaze like embers.The medallion trembled on his chest.
"Then howl it loud, brother."
And he did.
The White Wolf howled.Not out of fear.Nor fury.But memory.
For those who had fallen.For those still standing.And for Aisha—who, despite it all, still believed in him.
The howl faded into the fire's echo.But the night did not end with it.It only began.
Darkness consumed everything.The sun never rose that morning.And Sanathiel, his eyes fixed on the horizon, felt the weight of loss strike his chest like a blade.
Varek had fallen—And with him, the final barrier that stood between the human world and total chaos.
"The day won't come," he whispered,his voice an echo among the quiet sighs of the Nevri.
Howls of anguish split the silence.Beasts emerged from every direction—grotesque creatures with skin stretched tight over bone and eyes like burning coal.Blooddrinkers, crafted by the Thirteen's community, hurled themselves at every living thing.
From the shadows, DarĂan—master of strategy—watched with a smile.
"Everything proceeds as planned.Final phase."
His voice echoed, his orders mobilizing the tide of darkness.
Chaos strangled the human world.Cities burned.The screams of the innocent tangled with the growls of monsters.Sanathiel knew this was the end—unless he changed it.
Wounded and weary, he rose.The lunar medallion glowed fiercely over his chest.
"I'm going to use it," he declared,his voice steady despite the fatigue.
Salomon placed a firm hand on his shoulder—a touch only given by one about to lose someone they love.
"You can't, Sanathiel. That medallion is already consuming what little remains of you. Push it further… and there'll be nothing left."
Sanathiel brushed his hand aside.His eyes glowed with unwavering resolve.
"Then let there be nothing.If my death can stop this…it will be enough."
Before he could step forward,Aisha grabbed his arm—stopping him.
"You won't do this alone, Sanathiel."Her voice carried force and finality."Varek's death will not be in vain."
She stepped close.Rested her forehead against his chest.The medallion pulsed between them as if it, too, breathed.
"I'll stand with you till the end.That's my promise."
Sanathiel stared at her, speechless.Before he could respond—she kissed him.
A kiss full of urgency.Not just passion.Not fear.But memory.A burning promise.
"I finally understand now," Aisha whispered,hot tears tracing her cheeks."I love you. Not for the medallion.I loved you before…even when I didn't know what you were to me."
"We met before.And we made a promise…"
Sanathiel closed his eyes.Swallowed the emotion.
"We promised to be together until the end of our lives," he said, voice trembling."That's why I marked you…as my Nevri mate."
"I'm glad…you remembered."
"The moon bore witness.And the medallion was the bond.What time had taken—love returned."
"That's enough. Too sappy," Salomon laughed,cutting through the tension."We still have work to do."
A distant rumble shook the ground.But it did not come from the battlefield—it came from the spiritual realm.
Skiller stiffened, more serious now.He stared at the burning horizon.
"It's time to move.This isn't over."
Sanathiel looked up.And in the mist of war,he thought he saw shadows at the edge of the world.
Not monsters.Not enemies.Them.
Varek.Some fallen Nevri.Perhaps even Luciano.
They watched in silence.Offered no words.They simply… were.As if the world needed them—just one second more.As if even death itself was holding its breath.
Sanathiel narrowed his eyes.Whispered softly:
"I know."
And in that moment,the medallion shone brighter than ever.As if each fallen soul…had given him the last of their light.
A spark.A reason.A farewell.
Then the helicopter roared.And Dimitri descended like a bad omen with metal wings.
Its howl shattered the air.
From the sky, a familiar figure dropped:Dimitri Snova, flanked by his elite team.
"Made it in time, huh?" he smirked,as the chopper landed in a clearing.
Skiller approached, firm and focused.
"Get the people out, Dimitri.This is going to get ugly,and I won't have them trapped here."
Dimitri nodded with a tilted grin.
"Wouldn't expect less from you, brother.Let's clean this mess before the higher powers turn it into something worse."
As his team began the evacuation,Sanathiel turned to Aisha, Salomon, and Skiller.
"This will be our last stand.If we fall here…everything falls."
Aisha took his hand—a fire in her eyes that could silence gods.
"Not today.Today, we fight.Together."
Sanathiel offered a faint smile.Then he raised the medallion.Its lunar glow flared like a beacon in the darkest night.
The beasts charged.
But with Sanathiel at the front—Aisha, Salomon, and Skiller by his side—they were ready to face the storm.
"And in that instant,with the moon as their sole witness,the White Wolf began his final ascent."
From atop a ruined skyscraper,DarĂan watched the battle.
"Let the eclipse begin."
And the moon… began to bleed.
But more than blood fell from the sky.
Memory fell.Promise fell.The boundary fell.
For when the moon bleeds...the world does not bleed any less.
And in that moment,as the moon opened like a wound in the heavens,the soul of the White Wolf…finally howled in silence.